Breastfeeding

by Evgeniya Dineva


Road 26^th is closed
because of storms and a collapsed bridge.
The radio’s not working and we missed the announcement.
Your fist lands on the old steering wheel-
it is the rusty car’s fault you’ve been unable to sleep
and Stoyan’s operation failed.
Clay-dusted snow swallows
the road ahead as my hand closes
around the gift wrap.
Marlin-blue paper crunches
and you’ve inherited your mother’s taste
for acting like everything’s fine.
By ten pm my window shoulder’s gone numb
and dinner’s long over.
Eight-year-old Mitko has dyslexia
and can’t spell welcome correctly.
Birthdays and Thanksgiving
are only for close family, anyway.
The no-bad habits rule invites me out,
propped on the frosty handrails.
Smoke curls above ghost-white and powder garden
and I exhale wondering if
Mitko has the time to learn my name.


* * * * *

My Heart-Shaped Bruise 

by Evgeniya Dineva


The fairy-blue smoke escapes the lips 
then curls around the slim,
so - familiar fingers 
of your hands - once wrapped around me,
in me.
The scent dances above us and dissolves 
in the stale air
of the motel room at the corner of 45th and Elm. 
It’s the time I’m the happiest 
it’s when I’m the saddest.
The numbers are melting in the light of dawn
threatening to break in
through the thick curtains. 
I’m a puddle of disjoined human parts, 
limbs, bones and all this being fragile.
It’s you leaving and me lying here
with my breaths dissipating.
It’s my proof this happened 
it’s my heart-shaped bruise 
no matter what’s to come. 


* * * * *

Evgeniya Dineva is a poet from Bulgaria. Her works appear in The Hong Kong Review, Ethel, Asian Cha and others. Her debut poetry collection Animals Have No Fathers was published by Ars&Scribens in November 2023 (Животните нямат бащи | Евгения Динева | Цена | Ozone.bg). Evgeniya is a fellow of the Elizabeth Kostova Foundation for Creative Writing.