You thought it never occurred to me
to search for traces of you in the short summer nights,
before they step aside to make room for majestic sunrays
that ripen fruit and multiply their burning through millions of
glowing surfaces. You thought I’d forgotten how nighttide
peeks through leaves covered in mist–miniature mirrors
of hugging moons, casting their luscious midnights through
longing.
You thought sleeping would keep my mind elsewhere.
Anda Marcu (she/her) is a multidisciplinary artist and curator living and working in London, Canada. Her work emerges from memories, dreams and persistent mental imagery and has been featured in galleries and publications internationally. Her projects include painting, mixed media, film photography, poetry and short stories. Website: www.andamarcu.com Instagram: @andamarcuart