Featured Poems SS 2019
Driving down the freeway,
with my windows down,
a sickening scent filled the air.
I was sitting with Monica as
her hair flew out the window.
My mind and eyes are on her.
I couldn’t help but stare
at this blinding beauty that
almost outshone the sun.
I couldn’t help but look
at this beautiful spirit that
soared free like a bird.
I couldn’t help but get distracted
by the idea of beauty that
this woman symbolized.
My infatuation with her
was where I made
my first mistake.
The pungent gasoline odor
poisoned my lungs
and fogged up my brain.
Patricia Santillan likes climbing up chairs because she is too short to reach the top cupboard. Because self-love is important to her, she loves hugging herself. Her most recent publications can be found in Leaves of Ink and Fairy Talez.