Some Mysterious Farewell
I was language before I was a body, fit for a soul too long in the arms. I was sand forged by the sea’s signature, strung out on the narcotic moon. I lived a whole village inside my waiting. Every voice a muffled thunder. Every god claimed acquaintance with the weather. I burned my tongue on my own riddles. The night bloomed a great garden. There were no bones that weren’t the skeletons of birdsong, of bat-song. I unearthed a woman-song, its hum an allegory of bees. The words were a confusion trapping my escape. I plagiarized my sin. I refused the fugitive you.
Christina Veladota’s poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in a number of literary journals, including: The Laurel Review, The Journal, Bellingham Review, and Mid-American Review. The author of the chapbook The Girl & Her Lions (Finishing Line Press, 2010), she currently serves as an associate professor of English and Literature at Washington State Community College in Marietta, OH. She is a recipient of a 2014 Individual Excellence Award from the Ohio Arts Council. On her blog, maybesopoetry, she reviews and promotes the work of women poets and writers.