A gavel that slammed itself into my heart,
karate chopping it apart with its quick
and final verdict, one that can’t be appealed.
How many nights had I lain in his arms,
listening to his breath, knowing one day
we’d lose our innocence together in that bed?
It was like the tiny red dot that fades away
slowly, or explodes into its target’s head.
Dreams floated away, but what about the love?
What happens when love is supposed to die
with the dreams, but its current keeps flowing
like the Pacific Ocean we gazed at one August day?
~ Stephanie Mojica
Stephanie Mojica is a widely published journalist who has interviewed Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama, but has been virtually a closet poet since the 1980s. Her poetry has been published in “The Mainichi Daily News,” “Open Minds Quarterly,” “The Stray Branch,” and “Calliope Nerve.”