After the Earthquake

By Briana Zelkova

This barren land devoid of bravery

Our glances add a tab to come back

To this moment later

Fending like survivors of apocalypse

She kindly guarded my lungs

Without me asking

Every group needs a quiet, suspicious one

That’s good and fine

Too cold outside

I pinky promise I mean it this time

Now you want to treat this like a church

The cherry blossoms have not quite bloomed

These stifled thoughts and wringing hands

Were loud enough

Their spry mouths moved with a familiar yet foreign severity

As I gazed through the fading plexi glass

I wondered if they could be as touched as me

Forever clad so that my mouth rests

Soul stamped in curious inked shapes

While I watch them thrash against the pain

Unwinding the piano chord

Drawing their own blood in their haste

What tedious and mundane life

Clinging to any chance to brawl

Little lions swearing upon a doorless enclosure

Insisting this is their prison

One off to the side

Sleepily watching the exit tunnel

Briana Zelkova is an emerging Filipino American poet. Her writing is informed by her origins in Dagupan and childhood in the American South. Her work can be found in Divinations Magazine, Le Culturae, and yawp Literary + Arts ‘Zine. She loves surrealism and gazing out of windows.