Gris-Gris, an online journal of literature, culture & the arts

Spring Rain

by Stella Vinitchi Radelescu


I happen to be+++to be there

in tiny places

tiny hidden places on earth

gathering crumbs pieces of sun

seconds minutes

for the feast

of the year+ : years left on empty

tables+++—hunger &


I was enormous at times pregnant

with the moon thirsty

for blood

a scream in my mouth that will

never end+++ —bones are

for holding the cross—o dear you all,

do you smell fire in my flesh

I was fleshy I was bony falling &

climbing+ : a butterfly a rat

and then

I took the shape of a cloud++ rain

pouring from my chest