Your Hair’s Sour Scent

Alec Solomita

Your hair’s sour scent
is all that seems the same.
Your gait’s gone slow and wary.
Your words scatter like cinders.
Your sadness makes it hard for
Me to lift my arms.
On the odd day your eyes know
something I don’t know, and don’t want to know.
You know where you’re going and might just want to go.
It’s as if the tide was always low
and the waves receding show the jewels
the sea hides beneath its slick black reeds —
polished stones, scalloped shells, and pearls.


Alec Solomita has published fiction in The Adirondack Review, The Mississippi Review, Southwest Review, and elsewhere. Recently, his poetry has appeared in 3Elements Literary Review, MadHatLit, Turk’s Head Review, Literary Orphans, and, forthcoming, Bloodstone Review, Silver Birch Press, and Fulcrum: An International Anthology of Poetry and Aesthetics. He lives in Somerville, Mass.

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