Jasmine Nihmey-Vasdi
Breakfast
Happens at the churreria
Along the bar
Bumps wrapping the tiles
Forever within range of heavy air
From men who deal cards
Picking their teeth
Hot breath from our cups
Small and white
Do not remind me of that brisk night in the 18th
Our feet lying out of the window above the sky
Trilling worn tales
Swirling the wooden spoon above the toilet
Falling asleep with old high magic
Before we all turned inward.
On this day
The sun is rising late
Remaining in thoughts of crawling shade
Pressing my cheek into the counter
Lightly licking sugar
from the plate
Of my neighbour.
Jasmine Nihmey-Vasdi is a Canadian currently living and working in Spain who has previously been published by Radix Magazine and Bywords. She also take pictures.
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Breakfast
Happens at the churreria
Along the bar
Bumps wrapping the tiles
Forever within range of heavy air
From men who deal cards
Picking their teeth
Hot breath from our cups
Small and white
Do not remind me of that brisk night in the 18th
Our feet lying out of the window above the sky
Trilling worn tales
Swirling the wooden spoon above the toilet
Falling asleep with old high magic
Before we all turned inward.
On this day
The sun is rising late
Remaining in thoughts of crawling shade
Pressing my cheek into the counter
Lightly licking sugar
from the plate
Of my neighbour.
Jasmine Nihmey-Vasdi is a Canadian currently living and working in Spain who has previously been published by Radix Magazine and Bywords. She also take pictures.