A Ballroom Scene
You saw a woman
with a nest of spiders in her eyes,
each knitting away a future
that would not come to pass.
Yes, she was a lovely chandelier,
dangling from a few phrases,
flinging light out to the tiles.
But she was just glass.
Brittle.
A reflective surface
as hollow as an echo.
-Valentina Cano
Some Kind of Orpheus
Leaving you behind
has become the only option.
And no option at all.
I’ve dug into the underworld itself
for the key that would spring
that lock of memory open,
but it’s lost,
drowned metal in that long,
black river
you’ve ripped open between us.
-Valentina Cano
The Woman at the Station
She trusted herself like a chain
would trust a squeaky link,
with a heavy dose
of glittering cynicism.
One second of a turned eye
and it would all topple down,
slinking away like snake shed.
She listened to her voice
with knitting needles in her hands,
drawing them up and down
in a net of mistrust.
-Valentina Cano
