Page 1

Cassandra

By Lysbeth Benkert

Cassandra

 

 

In

spiring.

 

Breathing

you

in.

 

Filling myself up

through

spiracles

and

spinning

out

song

from the darkest

chirrup

corners

chirrup

in which

chirrup

I dwell.

 

Each word

is a spark—

an ember blown up fiery against the dark sky

 

—smoke and mirrors—

 

the slow blossom

of color

swirling through thick liquid,

 

captured in the

wobbly lens of amber memory.

 

The Words are larger than myself.

Their fire bursts forth tearing my pores,

charring my bones,

the chemical catalyst of my flesh

metamorphosed utterly

into its former self.

 

The breath of gods is inhaled only as an immolation,

and exhaled

only

as a terrible

silence.

 

Previously Featured Poetry

Cassandra by Lysbeth Benkert

Mandrakes by Geula Geurts

Kinga by Ann Taylor

In an enchanted wood by James B. Nicola

Interview Near Endor Years Later by Mark Mitchell

An amorous vignette by Tiffany Babb

Previously Featured Fiction

Titivillus by Clayton Ramsey

The Dark Night of the Soul by Laurette Viteritti-Folk

A Taste of the Number 15 by Caleb Warner

HOW COLORS CAME TO BE by Richard Krepski

The First Dragon by Tyler Omichinski

Shell Game by Reed Stirling

Previously Featured Art

digital and ink abstract art

Night Fog Machine by Sari Krosinsky

HAUNTED by Julie Dapper