Joss Uñac

Her bloodied mouth dances,

A posy in sunshine framed,

I do not know if she speaks

The truth or even a language

Sufficiently communicable

To my blind ears

But I would sit here

In these shadows inching

Toward the glint

Of her alpine teeth

Hoping to draw within

The sentiment behind

Her mutinous laughter.


She reclines

As a door opening

I scour her flesh,

Her heart

The scent like lavender

Smuggled in honey

If she exists

Than love must as well