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.

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