(previously published in Issue 4 of Moon Cola Zine)

I woke up at the river

Arms and body bare

I can smell them, my children

The tamarind tang of their skin

Clinging to cilia-lined caverns

Leading to my center

Visions on dark screens

Behind my eyelids, living dreams

Of hands pulling us all under                      I know

What he will say, what you will believe

That I could take portions of myself

And suffocate them soundless

Under mirrored surface

But his hands always hit harder

Than mine, his venom more vicious

And I’m just another cautionary

Tale—a reason not to trust women

Who know all too well

I’m waiting at the river

Searching

          Sinking

And though you can divine

The salt of sorrow on my face

You only think you know my name

___

MELISSA NUNEZ lives and creates in the caffeinated spaces between awake and dreaming. She makes her home in the Rio Grande Valley region of South Texas, where she enjoys observing, exploring, and photographing the local flora and fauna with her three home-schooled children. She is a column contributor at The Daily Drunk Mag. She is also a staff writer for Alebrijes Review and Yellow Arrow Publishing. You can follow her on Twitter: @MelissaKNunez.