Today let me
give you crumbles
weeping
(v.)
sprig of wounds
poured
from the spine
of my palms
clamoring
(v.)
draft of tender
contracting
in the back
of my throat
housing
(n.)
jar held
squarely
in the base
of my lungs
whistling
(adj.)
color of
your sheets
after
memories have
gone damp
and
astray
Christina D. Rodriguez is a New York-born writer/artist, trying to live this thing called, The Writer’s Life. As an aspiring arts journalist with a B.A. in Journalism from Brooklyn College, she blogs about her writing life on her site, The Write Queen. She is also the editor for the literary journal Typoetic.us. Her writing has appeared in various publications and anthologies. Christina is currently pursuing her Master degree in Arts Management at Columbia College Chicago to expand on her emerging business practices in poetry and the arts. When she’s not busy trying to juggle the world, she likes to get lost in it by reading poems to her soulmate at crowded bars.