Open Me Carefully

Image by Alex Hanks

Image by Alex Hanks

Lucia Llano, Staff Writer

Remember when you were a postcard

           promising better things and

                           I swallowed you in distance

                               screaming, ‘please come home to me’

               I was missing you, missing you, missing you

Hands reached out and — gasping

Wondering if you ever thought of me

Would I ever cross your mind 

at the same time you pass by mine like





crashing into each other.

Some subliminal traffic mishaps on a misplaced zebra crosswalk

Tell me; if

two neurons spark like birthday candles, sometimes

won’t that mean you’ll visit me? 


                                       within a dream?

Across somnambulant cities and this insomniac town and that little soft, electric spot you have on me I’m

sorry there’s just

something inside me 

that doesn’t sleep well

awoken by ambulance sirens and ice cream truck lullabies

and you would know exactly what that means

(if you just came home listen if )

If there was anyone who could split me wide open

Crack my sullen mind and show me the yolk of it

If there was anyone who could show me

the depths of my despair

It would’ve been 


You, your scalpel fingers, you red, red, lips but oh

            To have your crooked breathing next to me still,

                I keep all the postcards and hymns and elegies to

                                     taste you on my breath sometimes but 

 My dear, how much longer until I can touch you?

 (I’m tired of kissing telephone lines)