and so we are

          Black holes ain't so black.          
—Stephen Hawking                       


and so we are & have

a name

in spite of being once

black holes

cut off from every second

from every town

we are still playing

with the stars

expanding our little thoughts

beyond what

words could ever say

some lips could even spell a rose


first page was burned

& so we go

not going anywhere

I took a picture in the park

it was all blurred

then disappeared in a trace

of smoke

you look at me in wonder

while thousands eyes

so high in time are watching

every move

let me paste your smile

on the wall

& to be you & many more

in this world of falling



and I would like to reach you—

all of you with just

one sound

a sparkle that would inflame

the woods

so you could hear the pacing

of time         the wolf

the hauling


history of something

come secretly come in vain come

like a river a shadow

abundant week & stepping hard

& flowing

over what should have been our

last day—

last & lasting forever I'll find you

a name

come to us from where  we've


so far away there is a shape

a human shape of two entangled

bodies come

from nowhere the ocean

the tide


near to separate us a god inventing

your own


Stella Vinitchi Radulescu, Ph.D. in French Language & Literature, is the author of several collections of poetry published in the United States, Romania, and France. She writes poetry in English, French, and Romanian and her poems have appeared in Asheville Poetry Review, Pleiades, Louisville Review, Laurel Review, Rhino, Wallace Stevens Journal, and Seneca Review among others, as well as in a variety of literary magazines in France, Belgium, Luxembourg, and Romania. Her last collection of poetry, I scrape the window of nothingness - new & selected poems, was released in 2015 from Orison Books Press. At the present she lives in Chicago.

on being beautiful

Some say thronging cavalry, some say foot soldiers,
others call a fleet the most beautiful of   
lights the dark earth offers,
but I say it's whatever you love best.

                                                                                —Sappho, Fragment 16

so beauty should descend on us

to find the reason for being

beautiful & virgin

in its language          behind

the cloud a piano


would tune its strings

to human view

displacing layers in the eye

& where to go

when you don't see the end

the metaphor that would expand

& overturn empires—

forbidden love on legal ground

I came too close to you

: it hurts

Copyright © 2016, Otis Nebula Press. All rights reserved.