EMERGING ARTISTS & WRITERS: ELIZABETH SERI


ELIZABETH SERI

PCH

It was a night that burns
a bleak star through the roof
of my mouth. My bare thighs
stuck to the leather seat, same as
my tongue on my teeth – when I spoke
I sounded like the stranger
I wanted to be. What a gorgeous
blue dream to hurtle ourselves into.
Chasing glamour in a dark
convertible, this wind-swept
castle, with eyes
like mine.

So like ancient kings who adored
the unconquerable, we raced
down bottomless streets,
dull lamp lights coiling
at our heels. Life was sleek
and pooling in our grasp
and not enough.

Eventually, the coastline drew us
to an unscripted halt.
I leaned on the steel railing to
watch the waves oscillate from water
to ink – your pulse
a fragile imitation of the tide
pressed to my back. And still we were

so unsatisfied,
blood murmuring go, t
he ocean taunting: look -
how I can be more
how already I am
the horizon

and in the steel night I was
faltering
on the edge

of a man-made cliff.

 


HELEN KELLER

To be self
without mirrors. Horizon within
an arm’s reach yet no need
to name the chiaroscuro
of sunset. Here is a girl
who felt water’s pulse
running like her own,
groped through darkness
and pulled out wailing light as
an infant. Tamed it –
freed the static storm of her
body’s impossible
longing. Human
to so beautifully take what God
did not provide. Fireflies
startle out of voids,
brush their wings, light beams,
against waiting skin –
all this, stitched
into sight. No eyes,
no ears, barest echo
of mouth. Watch how she hums
into silence and only
knows the dance of words
pressed onto the palm of her hand
by another.

 

 

Elizabeth Seri currently attends high school in Southern California, writing poetry and playing tennis in her free time. Her work so far appears in Across the Margin and YCIS Little Star. She has also previously had her works recognized by the Scholastic Art & Writing Awards.