in another life,
many lives from now,
i will move you.
i will shatter the earth
beneath your feet
and you will fall so deeply
the steam will sear your lashes.
you will hope, in dismay,
for a glance
in a crowded room.
the smell of my skin
will stay trapped in your hair,
in your hands
and you will not be able to look away.
I will flood you
until you are choking with grief.
you will hurt for me,
one day,
I know.
but in this life,
it seems it is
my turn.
– sheila c.
i lived there with you
in the space between glances.
i shared the sweetness of hollow earth
and ate the green that grew
from our hearth.
there was dew on everything
from here to tops of mango trees
mangled in brackish water.
the air was so thick you could
break it open with your hands
and walk through.
I swung my arms around wildly,
as I do,
trying to meet your eyes
but you,
you moved in silence
a gentle shift of cream and blue
with every step.
at night your head would fall into my chest
and your breath would become mine
this was the climax of our story
a memory,
I will need to bury.
– Sheila C.
the sour falls slowly
dredging the past
as they pass
like an alchemist
making something out of everything
this feeling never let go of me
because I never let go of it
and I try to stand on parquet floors
swaying my hips and lifting the space
inside me
digging my toenails into the wood
finding a place for sutures to drip
I know this face
is levied against tides
that live to swallow
but my gulps
resist as hollow
no,
there is nothing left to take
– sheila c.
is that what it looks like?
underneath the shade
swaying palms fronds in your eyelids
while the melancholy lingers in silence
i can leave the heartache behind
i can grow new limbs
and teach you where to break them
so i can’t run beside you
you can have this present
and I will take the future
you can have these memories
and I will mute yours
rolling pink silk like the sunset
you wandered into something
and it’s my fault
after all
I left a crack wide open
you barely had to pull back flesh
to find the pulsating mass
that made breaths into gasps
and lust into longing
– sheila cordova
i am longing for the warmth
of your light
yellow and gathered and black in the center
i veer closer every morning
arching closer to your beams
i am longing for the sting
of your heat
i know the odds are slim
that you have noticed
me
in this sea of golden creams
softly grounded
while you soar above me
pulsating at the edges
at the very brim
i am cast into your seasons
like the summer
and the spring
winter born and thick
i drink you in
can you feel me
from here in the earth
where i have been?
– sheila c.
is there anything worse
than losing your arm
before really learning to use it
right before you pump the blood
to your fingertips
and break the space between them
squeezing time in your grip
i could hold you
I could
I could breathe you in and
let out a gasp so deep
it would rattle your bones
but what good is a gasp
in the likeness of a dying breath
what good is strength
in this weakened mess
I am the cherry blossoms
in the park we’ll never see
I am the summer
you will never know to be
– sheila c.
no, I didn’t want to give you this
so I won’t
instead I’ll let the words fall on the page
as they may
with heights outstretched and unpunctuated
standing still in white space
waiting for a grasp
I’m thinking.. you’ll remember this pause
it’s not what you thought,
is it?
– sheila c.
