clings to love, combs out a mad dash
from beneath the light of Calais. 

Tugging the corners of earth where
the sky is pink, I gaze out to sea

to the last hour on water, like a bee
right up to the end of ache. Some-

times I think about that someday, I
should learn to swim, to move dark

waves rushing south so fast a comfort
of me could follow. But now is winter,

dusk hangs ice smoke gentle as not
to stir, something like the notion

of startlings keening the water wind,
conjugate the insomnia of my outcast

feet fighting for ground. Then if I sieve
with the night aniline in pale of colors,

will I needle and breathe hurt illume
beneath a street lamp, the way the calm

returns where something used to be?

Lana Bella A four-time Pushcart Prize, five-time Best of the Net & Bettering American Poetry nominee, Lana Bella is an author of three chapbooks, Under My Dark (Crisis Chronicles Press, 2016), Adagio (Finishing Line Press, 2016), and Dear Suki: Letters (Platypus 2412 Mini Chapbook Series, 2016), has had poetry and fiction featured with over 450 journals, Acentos Review, Comstock Review, EVENT, Ilanot Review, Notre Dame Review, Rock and Sling, The Stillwater Review, & Whiskey Island, among others, and work appeared in Aeolian Harp Anthology, Volume 3. Lana resides in the US and the coastal town of Nha Trang, Vietnam, where she is a mom of two far-too-clever-frolicsome imps.