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By Michelle Lizet Flores
(Twitter: @shellyflowers)
The Ritual
Begin by boiling water.
Pour a tablespoon of honey into your mug
let a tea bag soak it up.
Wait until the kettle whistles
before you pour the water.
Pull a plate out of the cupboard.
Fill it with freshly rinsed grapes
and cubes of cheese.
Find your best water glass
the one you bought at the vintage shop
the one you can’t put in the dishwasher.
Fill it with crisp, cool water.
Set your table [read: altar]
The alimentos to your left.
The poems to your right.
Your computer in the center.
And this is where your mother will speak to you
unlocking the words you keep trapped in your chest.
And this is where your grandfather will play his guitar
helping you find the rhythm to each line.
And this is where your visabuela will guide you
teaching you how to heal with words rather than herbs.
Alchemy creates more than gold if you give it time.
The Maenad Learns to Worship
Perhaps the issue wasn’t a lack of faith
but a forced faith towards a god she never believed in.
For what god would limit her strong liver
and curious body
to bowed worship
at a stoic altar.
No, the issue was a lack of direction
which transformed when she
took that first sip
of the darkest beer
the Valencian barkeep could muster.
This lack of direction became true
after the first kiss
with a friend who was never just a friend
after a night time bonfire
and too many bottles of American lager.
For what direction should the directionless take?
What does lost mean
when what you seek
is not a place
but a moment.
Braided hair collects into vines
wrapped into a crown.
She doesn’t just listen to music–
she feels it in every stretch of an arm,
In every sway of her hips.
Perhaps the issue was never her lack of faith.
Perhaps she finally found a god worth believing in.
About the Author:
Michelle Lizet Flores is a graduate of FSU and NYU creative writing programs. She currently works as a teacher and co-hosts the What's in a Verse Poetry Open Mic in Jacksonville, FL.
She has previously been published in magazines and journals such as The Miami Rail, Chircú Journal, and Travel Latina. A finalist for the Juan Felipe Herrera Award for Poetry, she is the author of the chapbooks Cuentos from the Swamp and Memoria, as well as the picture book, Carlito the Bat Learns to Trick or Treat.
Her short fiction can be found in the forthcoming anthology, Places We Build in the Universe through Flowersong Press.
Find out more at michellelizetflores.com. Follow her Twitter @@shellyflowers.
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