Shontay Luna

Surprised Septolet

  I
stomped inside
too loud, too quick.

She screamed,
startled
out of her slumber.

Doors Diamante 

The Doors
wild, dark
refreshing, probing, satisfying.
Unique, theatrical (respect, reverence)
glorifying, worshiping, adoring
illustrious, eminent,
legends.

In sleep

  In sleep’s dimmest
darkness,
it is there.
The figure stands in
the open closet,
not moving.
And she barely
sees shadow
and still silhouette
and in her room.
Until she realizes
it’s only
the mischievous
night.

Faces 

 Faces in the folds
of a curtain in
the afternoon sun.
In fleeting shadows
behind vibrant
light bulbs.
In vision specks
after sudden sneezing,
in opening of the eyes during
night’s reign.
And,
in my heavily medicated
presence,
the faces are
everywhere.

1-21-13

Sweet,
the sweetest sound
ever made.
The whisper from 
your lips,
calling my name.
Never in the world,
has there ever been,
a sound so 
sweet.

~~~

Shontay Luna is a lifelong Chicagoan who studied Poetry at Columbia College before finishing her studies elsewhere. She’s most recently published in Anti-Heroine Chic, Rigorous and The Daily Drunk. Her books include Reflections of a Project Girl and Recollections & Dreams.

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