Rift Time
A crevice spilling seconds
into the endless cup,
a whorl of glass so fine
as the film of saliva over lips
spun in the gasp of a moment,
tongue tucking back into its cave—
the cool stop-flow exhale,
waiting, weighting,
the mass of time
evaporates from the flesh,
swirling in the tangled ether,
sprouting from rooted breath;
the clock unfolds between lovers’ teeth,
blooming into a flower, its face
the weeping mask of an instant,
its hands two warm, slick leaves
reaching through white picket fences
to conjoin in the space between.
by Ross Moretti
Gravity’s Arrow
Gravity carries only one arrow in his quiver,
a bolt of blackened cypress salvaged from fire,
tempered in the warm ashes of sorrow.
It is fletched with red feathers, plucked
from a falling dove dyed in blood and cherries.
Platinum-tipped, it shines in the sun,
and in the darkness drips a slick glimmer.
This is all he needs to bring the world down,
to bring the moon to her knees
and make her sway with the ocean tides.
One arrow, fed through with steel cable
that he keeps in a coil on his hip.
With this, he will seize you by the heel, Achilles,
and drag you back from the far shores of Troy,
sparing you the final grief of heroism.
by Ross Moretti
Excelsior, or Lover Lost to an Overdose
Cellophane tensions
swelling;
pearled intoxicants
mixed in the dark:
we pumped
everything you never had
into that syringe,
sealed with a kiss
over the needle.
I pierced you with the feather
and you took wing
in the psychotropic aftermath:
fluorescent eclipse and
nectared aurora.
Mid-flight, you realized
my gold foil betrayal,
pretty in the sun, but
insubstantial,
the brass knuckle of my love,
and you flew skyward
through frosted cloud
and filament air
to dash upon the knife-blade stars,
leaving me to crystallize
amongst the raining
celestial shards.
by Ross Moretti
Ross Moretti is a first-year graduate student at Stanford University. An aspiring poet who originally hails from New Jersey, he was published several times in his undergraduate literary magazine, Lafayette College’s The Marquis. He recently participated in a poetry reading with Matthew Dickman, in recognition of one of his poems in Lafayette College’s annual H. MacKnight Black poetry competition.
