Are you the reincarnation of Lux Lisbon?

Do you live through the neighborhood boys’ 

eyes? Every home you move to eventually

transforms into a prison. How do you unravel

the pattern of tragedy when you’re addicted 

to the chaos of dangling from the roof?

Play your records to ease the monotony. 

Daydream of exotic places you and the others 

can explore. Tell the boys, your youngest sister 

did not become a child bride in Calcutta—

let them know she created a life that wasn’t 

tied to men—how she would kiss the feet

of Our Lady of Guadalupe when cleaning

her altar in a small chapel in Baja, California. 

Plan your escape without a car, or noose or pills.

There must be some glimmer—light shimmering

through the trees. You can run barefoot 

in the meadows, make flower crowns for you

and the rest of your sisters. Show your mother 

she holds no power—that you will be seen,

and bloom like an oak bursting through cement.



Marisa Silva-Dunbar’s work has been published in Better Than Starbucks Magazine, Chantrelle’s Notebook and Pink Plastic House. Marisa is the co-editor of the anthology “Kirstofia.” She has work forthcoming in Sledgehammer Lit Mag, and The Daily Drunk Mag. You can find her on Twitter and Instagram @thesweetmaris. You can find more of her work at www.marisasilvadunbar.com

Categories: Poetry

Daily Drunk

Shawn Berman runs The Daily Drunk. You can follow him on Twitter @Sbb_writer.

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