Climbing Shrub

The sun has swept
through the sky clearing
a path for a full moon,
the scent of night jasmine,
white moths flutter around
the bare light bulb. Smoke
snakes away from a cigarette
and your exhale is drawn out
catching my attention
from the corner of my eye
as if you have something
on your mind, ready to say
as you change your mind
yet again. Your somber
mood dampens the chill
night air, I hold my breath,
wait for the impulse
to pass. You exhale,
smoke coats your clothes
and all I can do is draw
close, inhale, and prepare
myself for roaming words
that swirl in circles, feet
planted on the stairwell
to steady the vertigo
as your hollow life
craves much more
than what the night sky
and its stars has to offer.


All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2009 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.

Untitled #10

How you wake me up, take me outside
with a slender hand, call me curious
when I peek from under my eyelashes,
you spill secrets on the pebbled beach
let the crabs scoop them up, and hide
them away in the long grass. An elegy
to our moment that stands in the distant
harbor, you keep walking bridges
and losing track of time. How can you gather
symphonies when your hands are picking
sweet cherries?

How you rise out of the earth, shake off
your life and walk silent against the sky
never to belong to another, years after
the salt waters have folded back.


All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2009 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.

Untitled #9

Kate stands at the door
her vision blurred
with downy feathers,
a rolling fog holds her still
she leaves behind a map
with thumbtacks and string,
a hotplate and a shelf with only
her favorite books (a dozen
or so) to keep her mind
company on the winter nights.
Half the world is asleep
the clouds bring her
their sleeping sounds,
blotted and restrained
with storm cloud static.
Her open hand catches on
the ivy that covers her
front wall and the stones
hold back the ocean
a precipice, a light tower.
Here at the end of her dream
caught in a white blindness
only spindly vines color her red.


All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2009 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.