Poetry — Issue Two
baroque blood moon
truth is I lost my soul
a long time ago
before you + your curse
how I ran to you
through Rome streets
hiding my face from saints + god
past the €3 crucifixes
nearly twisting my ankle
skinning a knee,
the blood in my veins
in heat—pure heat
the moon is theatrical,
all cloudy and pastel,
in this night of rites,
my lust is for sale,
your teeth, deeper than god
or water, don’t leave
a drop behind.
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Stephanie Valente Stephanie Athena Valente lives in Brooklyn, NY. Her published works include Internet Girlfriend (Clash Books) and Little Fang (Bottlecap Press). She has writing featured in Witch Craft Magazine, Maudlin House, and Hobart. She is the associate editor at Yes, Poetry. Sometimes, she feels human. stephanievalente.com.
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