a poetry e-zine










Poems By Emma Sydney Stein

It's the finding of door keys
the peeling crevice of skin needling
its way towards a home.

The days of slates
of the wrappers dropped dead
like corpses,
a cemetery on the floor.
When you see yourself in the mirror,
ribs protruding, outfitting
because ugly suits you
and you wear it well.
It's understanding
you want to be hurt.

You peel,
and see reflected
coral, saccharine eyes
rattling like dried bones.

On Finding An Old Letter

I tasted cherry blossoms,
heard the blue swirl of water,
enveloping me completely,
gasping on
the jades of memory,
the crescents of clipped fingernails,
and plastic butterfly hair clips.

My eyes rolled back,
marbles shaken,
and I remembered
you, Emily,
the day tasting so clear:
At two in the morning,
the creaking of the stairs
trying to warn me that
you wanted to be like Virginia Woolf.

Emma Sydney Stein is a senior in high school who enjoys nothing more than reading and writing poetry. She currently attends Newark Academy where she is the editor-in-chief of the school's literary magazine.

Copyright 2010  Chantarelle's Notebook