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  • by Ryan Oliveira

A Vision from St. Selena


Magdalene’s candle stands Akin to the abalone bin Currently brimmed with quarters.

Short change for the high season

When the sun sleeps early

And the string lights constellate

The sidewalk like fireworks.

Past Mary’s flick’ring wick, Third-eye center in my shrine, Dances a Tarot of the Lovers To a cumbia of St. Selena Stuck immortal on my wall, Where late at night when all the world

Sleeps close, I dream of you alone.

And I cream my hand next to yours,

A soft-serve slide and cupped cone.

Between fingers felt we melt Under Christmas blinks and

Tiffany-Box lyrics tinning the air.

I overcoat close to your parka,

Nosing frankincense on your skin.

You laugh at the red-nosed rein-dog,

Dancing frost sprites in the air. We skate to reggae grooves, moving

Through us like smooth choc‘late.

In the flick’ring winterglow, We picnic under blankets, afire,

Uncovered, two puppies, acuddled.

Then you walk away from me,

Candle-snuffed like cooled embers.

Winter has waned with wax; No answer from Mary tonight.

But the Lovers still summer my wall,

To St. Selena, canto and lullaby, Late at night, to dream of you.


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Ryan Oliveira

Ideas.  I'm full of them.

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