Bobby Nicolescu writes poetry, prose, and drama in English and Romanian, and her work has appeared in several small U.S. journals.
When in our molten silence
gasping at air we swallow it unchewed and cloy together on the verge of blackout,
I’ll tear your breath away from me,
away to wade among the eyelids of your amniotic sleep.
Could you reach out then–
along our shrills absorb them–
and be whole again,