Saturday, October 24, 2009

Untitled #11

I laugh at her behind my teeth
keys slide across the desk,
a discordant sound

she pulls and push
her complaints for pity
in long vowel accordance

thin veneers of polished bones
scrape the inside of the cheek

a gravel voice obscured on deaf ears

cut fingers leave blood splatter lines across the door

a dead mouse dies beneath a chair
and I wait for someone from building and grounds
to remove the corpse.

we have lost our religion
beneath our untied shoes
and under our desks.

there is willful ignorance
drowning on the borders
between life and death.

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.

Friday, October 23, 2009

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.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

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.