While a white lily unfurls a white lie about a heatless and heartless summer, we are sweating under city lights on a rooftop somewhere in Manhattan. Above us the cool odor of extinct evenings perfumes the lily-white starlight that is not as bright as the mascara smudges under your eyes, though frighteningly close. There are white lilies and white envelopes containing blackened letters sprouting up from the concrete beneath your feet and you hop around like hopscotch avoiding the poisonous weeds.
Two Dreams about Emily Dickinson
are tending to your black-eyed
it begins to rain.
the same room that bore the entire body
lace skirts underneath your petticoat
I’m Not Saying
out of shoeboxes
say at all.
Samantha Zighelboim is a Venezuelan-American poet and translator. She recently graduated with a BFA in Writing for Publication, Performance and Media from the Pratt Institute in Brooklyn, New York, where she specialized in poetry, short fiction and creative translation. Previously, Sam studied at El Instituto de Diseño de Caracas in Caracas, Venezuela, majoring in graphic communications. She is the managing editor of Rattapallax, a journal of international poetry. Her translations have been published in Rattapallax. She currently lives in New York City.
2006, Samantha Zighelboim. ©
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