Tag Archives: Alina Stefanescu

Holy Bread

My dad’s name is Doru. “Dor” translates into longing half-mast, haphazard and not even close. A native country is small but the longing obscene, megalomaniacal enough how sour the melting pot stew. Vowels ripen into apples in the orchard of … Continue reading

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Suburban Matins

Do what seems a trifle: build a sturdy poem from tiny ache, the smallest stitch being strongest. A blessing says the brother in Christ. A distraction from nirvana says the dearest Buddhist buddy. A clear case of neuralgia says the … Continue reading

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Note for the Female Waiting in a Plastic Surgeon’s Office

I know your divorce was difficult. Don’t worry about moving on or being unfaithful to some photo past. Stop fantasizing the coming edition, your cut-and-paste reinvention, the next person you plan to become being a single dream on the horizon. … Continue reading

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Dint of Two Words

Three words: I miss you compressed us into two: I do now only one: us. The ritual is warm- fisted. Marriage a form of wordplay which injures third parties. Not that it matters how I use people to distract me … Continue reading

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