drumming by the bayou
at dawn,
knotted cypresses
stall the waters, long enough,
to reflect new light
into the bloodshot eyes
of demons that must rest,
though nothing feels
cool to the touch in this place—
she, having worn the red dress,
he, having kissed the lips of rum,
both, offered freely,
in the name of mischief.
so the echoes of spirits dance,
in the backwaters
of a higher time and space,
nothing to decipher,
no more, no less,
as earth’s pores drizzle in the demise
of night’s tainted, unadulterated sweat,
the only thing spiritually left
to cool the delirium
of a perfect recklessness.
Eliana Vanessa
Eliana Vanessa is originally from Buenos
Aires, Argentina and moved to New Orleans, Louisiana at a young age. Her poems have been selected for display via a
community project called St Tammany Poetry on the Streets, and she recently
participated in the Jane Austen Festival (2017,2018, 2019, upcoming) as part of
a panel of other selected poets. Eliana
Vanessa’s work appears in Siren’s Call, The Horrorzine, The Rye Whiskey Review,
The Ramingo’s Porch, Fearless Magazine, and the anthology, Masks Still Aren’t
Enough.
Tags:
Poetry