The Muse

(An International Journal of Poetry)

Volume-1                                          June-2011                                                        Number-1

 

                                                                                        

Cold War

by Valentina Cano

 

The attention he paid her

was a sliver of fingernail,

a knife blade in the light.

No one would have known

the silence held warm syllables

in its folds, no one could

have seen the reflection of

crinkling fire in his veiled eyes.

She did.

The lapping waves

made of stillborn notes

froze her feet,

clutching her attention,

pinning her down.

His breath pooled about her.

His skin a beam of

turbulent light,

a kaleidoscope of clouds.

She walked by him.

He drew back

and released her into

the afternoon’s gray shell.