He smelled like a furniture store,
like the surge and ebb
of bodies around upholstery.
His face, rough like the cheapest carpet,
rubbed her eyes into debris.
Into metamorphosing sand.
It was a Sunday moment,
bubbling in her stomach.
when he smiled.
It was the fibrous coat she would have pared off.
Valentina Cano is a student of classical singing who spends whatever free time she has either reading or writing. Her works have appeared in numerous publications and her poetry has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Web. Her debut novel, The Rose Master, was published in 2014 and was called a “strong and satisfying effort” by Publishers Weekly.