• Connect

What light
What calm
Leaked throughout the city
Them at night their bodies
Peaks and valleys of shadows
Caressed by the orange glow of city lights
Parents driving their daughters home
Medical students trying their hand at a sly
Hitting on slim, flat-chested blondes
Like their textbooks’
Narrative voice
That they are too busy, too burnt out to notice
Single women ring their budda bowl as they meditate
On mindfulness and chaos
On why they are still alone
Old men walk with canes
As sugar girls plan their summer escape
To Lake Tahoe, Calistoga, anywhere but
Chicago in the winter
Young girls curled between the sheets
Reading books about
Big love
And wonder where to fit it
So big
In an agenda book
So small
So packed right
In her pocket
The aubergine sky all aglow
Sky scrapers splattered with squares of golden light
What delight!
Who can sleep on a night like this?
When cars zoom by
Lazy bliss
When young men lay in bed working on assignments
As their lovers do the same
Their skin mauve
Mauve like the sky
Horse drawn carriages click clacking
To the beat of their fingers’ dance
On the keyboard
In the bed



Damiana Andonova is a graduate of Brandeis University with a Bachelor’s of Science in Health: Science, Society, and Policy and in Biology. She is a member of the American Medical Writer’s Association, the Association for Health Care Journalists, and the American College of Healthcare Executives. She currently works as a strategic planner at a children’s hospital and is the Chief of Creative Strategy at Caravel Journal. Andonova has published essays and articles about medicine, medical internships in obstetrics/gynecology in Wander and the Stanford Medicine 25, as well as a narrative on bullying published in a teen anthology edited by Stephanie Meyer. She lived in Chicago for 16 years and is relocating to Scottsdale, AZ this fall. 


No comments yet. Be the first to add one!

Allowed HTML tags: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>

By submitting a comment you grant Chicago Writers Association a perpetual license to reproduce your words and name/web site in attribution. Inappropriate and irrelevant comments will be removed at an admin’s discretion. Your email is used for verification purposes only, it will never be shared.