By Jonel Abellanosa
Percussive light in my skull, bluebird
navigating the deep space my closed
eyes jealously guard. I hear the word
“dodecahedron,” and I see brown —
feathers to and fro down, canceling
gravity. Anxiety isn’t grave, now
that I’ve lost my body to minutes
sounding as piano notes, making me
see all of a sudden hooves headed
to the horizon. My weight is captive
to recall, but I no longer remember
the way it was for willpower, sun
in my pineal gland aglow. I soar,
solar as the roar that fuels, visible
to the mirror. I’m you that attracts.
Jonel Abellanosa lives in Cebu City, the Philippines. He is a nature lover, an environmental advocate, and loves all animals, particularly dogs. His poetry collections include “Meditations” (Alien Buddha Press), “Songs from My Mind’s Tree” and “Multiverse” (Clare Songbirds Publishing House), “50 Acrostic Poems” (Cyberwit, India), “In the Donald’s Time” (Poetic Justice Books and Art), and his speculative poetry collection “Pan’s Saxophone” (Weasel Press). He loves to self-study the sciences.
