Ventana (a conversation with my cousin)

My Tia used to live in Ventana,
a small place on the way to the beach.
Ventana is the Spanish word for window.
We sit here talking about her life,
her dreams, our mothers’ secrets.
Ventana is the Spanish word for window.
Our time and space are limited,
we hold hands, breaking the barrier for a moment.
Ventana is the Spanish word for window.
Eye contact finishes our sentences, brings laughter,
realizing that we might be taking this too seriously.
Ventana is the Spanish word for window,
and eventually you’ll be on the other side again
while I write a poem about your time on mine.

9 Marzo 2017
Katerina Marks 

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half-sleep

In half-sleep my words are so wise
my verses so moving
I bring myself to tears
and wonder in the morning
why my pillow is so wet

Katerina Marks
25 April 2017

Morning Experience 

I stretch, gosh, it’s so cold

I wish they’d close the window 

Peering out, that now familiar orange glow 

Greets me…warmly.

The tiles in the entryway radiate chill

Click. Soon she’ll be marching up that hill.

The fountain of life gurgles happily

In the kitchen 

I slurp that sweet nectar of the–ow! It’s hot!

But I hold it close, it’s warmth spreads, hitting the spot

And for this moment I sit still.

Katerina Marks
31 January 2017

Online dating 

I lean forward to
touch you – reality lost
inside this small box

overflowing with
delicate secrets crawling
along thin fibers

until you snap in-
to sudden focus – finding
truth in miles between

Katerina Marks
9 January 2017

Morning Exercise

orange halo hugs horizon
street lights begin to dim.
chill air seeps through glass,
thankful for warmth inside.

tree branches reach, intertwine
giant, climbing spiderwebs.
halo breaks, sun bursts through
and heater kicks on to cut the silence.

Katerina Marks
5 January 2017

4 January 2017

it was my decision, an error on my part
to swallow your words whole, without pausing to masticate
the truth of their weight

it was a mistake, one I chose to seize
to drag through false rays of sunshine, in a world of pure imagination
denying the shadows their time

it was my decision, a mistake I chose to seize
to press close to my heart, without pausing to breathe
the stench of decaying faith

I press my face against you and scream

Katerina Marks
4 January 2017