Two Poems by Valentina Cano

02/05/2018

 

Art by Collin Beck

 

 

Statue in a Corridor

 

I spent the day on a chair,

 

hands tucked like wings

 

between my legs.

 

Hair thrumming a wire call

 

across the looping hallway.

 

I was folded, 

 

grounded,

 

salt frosting the lip of my shoe. 

 

Waiting for a tongue to lick it clean. 

 

 

 

Amateur Gardener 

 

With a snail of a fingernail,

 

I flake off this thought. 

 

And watch the next one bloom,

 

birthed in the wetness of blood,

 

veined-petals chewed down into

 

ravaged ends that would send

 

pruning scissors vibrating.

 

Their metal teeth slick with spit. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Valentina Cano is a student of classical singing who spends whatever free time she has either reading or writing. Her works have appeared in numerous publications and her poetry has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Web. Her debut novel, The Rose Master, was published in 2014 and was called a "strong and satisfying effort" by Publishers Weekly.

 

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