Why do I return
to what burns me?
Why do I beg
the porch light
when there’s so much
jasmine sighing honey
into night’s dim corners?
Some of us emerge mouthless,
speaking silently in scent.
Born for love alone,
we starve with wings entwined.
I take a pen and try to draw myself
a tongue, curled and craving more
than shadow, sputtering
wings on floodlit cement.
You flash a 40-Watt
smile and I want to die
before your blind eye.
Anne Ramallo (she/her) is a writer, editor, and performer living in Los Angeles, chasing big ideas through a full, noisy life and scribbling them down in the margins between school drop-offs, meetings, meals, and midnight. Her poetry has been featured in journals and anthologies, including Sky Island, Low Hanging Fruit, Elysium Review, and Radical Catalyst. She placed third in the Pen Parentis 2026 Fellowship for parent writers and is a co-founder of indie press and creative community Poets in the Pines.
