Valentina Cano

Wedding Night

I am not a locked door.
Or a carpet to roll up.
I’m not a pile of wood
drying with age.
I am sky,
planes of it spreading and multiplying
into upside down echoes of each other
until I am everything around you.
A translucent flytrap.
An endless glass tunnel.
A tightening metal ring.


She caught scent of him,
a bonfire in the rotating room.
Smoke filled her lungs
like cobwebs, like silk.
Every breath became a trap
and she thought of flies
in abandoned drinks.
A rush of sweetness
and drenching of wings.

Valentina Cano is a student of classical singing who spends whatever free time either writing or reading. Her works have appeared in such magazines as Exercise Bowler, Blinking Cursor, Theory Train, Cartier Street Press, Berg Gasse 19, Precious Metals, A Handful of Dust, The Scarlet Sound, The Adroit Journal, Perceptions Literary Magazine, Welcome to Wherever, and The Corner Club Press. Her poetry has been nominated for Best of the Web and the Pushcart Prize.You can find her here:

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