By Lana Bella

the rationing of 
number and size in 
time, touched me 
like an upside-down 
confection. Empires 
of earth fell into 
my mouth, endured 
on memories of
the infantile me 
peeling off sickle-
shaped wafers from
sour lips, coating 
shadows on 
the undersides of 
grubby fingers. Now,
I became a house
with lips at the window,
fingers were the
madness trying to feel 
the dermis of 
the universe with 
intent on making my
thoughts heard and
conceived. I arrived at 
a truth, for the reach
next to me felt
empty, while a narrow
and long vision 
away, a patient ocean
of space, symmetrically
awry, was slowly 
creeping closer in.

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. You can follow her here online,