SAD WOMAN

When I was younger than I am now,
My stomach not yet erupted with sadness,
My face still ugly, but blameless,
And when I was yellow as a claw at my death,
I loved you, I loved you.
When I was a tiny flower in your mouth
And you were still a baby, your bones soft
In your body, and mourning had not yet
Found his desire for me, not yet blackened my teeth,
When the children were my dreams and slipped rings
Onto my fingers, and together we ate
The tiniest flowers I had ever seen,
I loved you, I loved you.


Simone dos Anjos






ORIENTAL PRINCE TO HIS ELDEST BROTHER

That woman does not
move you.
Her face does not seem
white at all
to you. It was the whitest face
I had touched,
like touching the house of a king.


Simone dos Anjos
The St. Lawrence Book Award
The St. Lawrence Book Award
The St. Lawrence Book AwardThe St. Lawrence Book AwardThe St. Lawrence Book Award
The St. Lawrence Book Award
The Adirondack Review
SIMONE DOS ANJOS is currently writing a collection of short stories. Artistic influences include James Joyce, Gabriel García Márquez, Emile Zola, and Nicanor Villalta. Simone is co-editor of The Modern Review. This is her first poetry publication.