DECELERATE
juice my life
to the barrage of memories
if / when
i finally surrender
i know
what will flash before me
even when grasping at
this moment
i’m thrilled
& cannot welcome snow
**
TO DISFLOW IMMEASURABLY W THE LIGHTSOURCE
i know   i   am   mortal.  .  .esp in this gloom.  .  .highlights my entrapment yet.  .  .a joyous one i clutter w the things i love.  .  .slang for beauty.  .  .just want laughter.  .  .tilt my chin up.  .  .empty of elixir.  .  .pleasure eludes.  .  .insert delusion.  .  .i have a sweet spot.  .  . devoid of all.  .  .risqué.  .  .withholding no coordinates.  .  .bikini bod or not.  .  .i look bad in red.  .  .draw too much attention.  .  .to evil.  .  . getting this entangled.  .  .end up in a ravine.  .  .intentionally tracing.  .  .the dna i leave.  .  .
**
MIDAIR FEEL
my countryside, my cliff, my cunt
internal non dark ness
made good by sth specific
tiny is the jugular that
whine or no whine
uninterrupts
what hallucination? what apology?
it won’t stop happening, only to happen agin
what i went for legibly illegibly
became pique this point in the cycle
i reinscribe i
“in the name of
mild adrenaline
**
SELF-STABILIZER
Fruit of my mood. Core pickled with waiting. One pivot turns into a dance. Blend of awkward moves and flow state. The tune in, the waning, the babe inside me wrestles her peaceful sleep. Is the shelter. Sufficient in structure. Pass thru me like the holy or don’t. Consisting of ultimatums I allow. Each stage of lumination. Its moment of. Lighting up this only room. I don’t.
Centralize time. Crystallize it. Risen yet not yet. The protein twists out its strand. Admit to get one step closer to. The heir. Loom that is able to. Give us a form to. Cling to. Deprived of luster. False swan. I spit. On yr wings.
So span. Confronted by a series of wavelengths. On which one should I be on. Testing connections, what they withstand. This hand wonders about its other. In planar in stellar or caught in. What throes. Whirl of info or. Never above a certain threshold I re. Gurgitate what I in. Tend.
**
SLOW MO BARB TO THE
heaven cld sound like heaving
assertion vs. doubt
cliché buildup of burnout of
wtv bastion “love that was
compelled in the lugnut of sorrow
to carve a glyph in any available surface (puncture wound bc its true
the body’s deep red inaccessible inadvertent
truth and reality lumped together like the meat of crab
all signs are there they ask to be heeded
attach so much significance or not-
can never be i’m sorry neutral
we huddle as if the bonfire is there
**
I KNOW IT’S FORBIDDEN BUT STILL
give me a merry go round upon which to sicken myself
srry for being so obscene-
so little to say now, most of it
(not language
jus prickles
of light
signification
**
SOPHIA MARINA is a poet from the Rio Grande Valley. Her work can be found or is forthcoming in 4×4, Annotations, Variant Literature, Candela Review, and Ghost City Review. She is currently pursuing her MFA in Literary Arts at Brown University.
