POETRY BY MARTINA RIMBALDO

Ruptured Looking Glass

Moonlight cast pale hands upon her window

Infatuated with its layer of dust

Uninvited guest observing from afar

As a young maiden fashioned in a flaxen lace gown

Sits on a Baroque chair, combing ash-auburn hair

Breathing heavy summer air

Wall-ticker heralds midnight

A minute later, the bed chamber’s Victorian looking-glass ruptures in half

Scared to her bones, the maiden jumps off the chair

Wonders how could it occur, something so obscure

Her mother opens the door like a fury

Reads out loud a telegram, just received

Fragile voice shakes in dolor

Her cousin of only18 passed away…

The maiden espies the looking-glass and glowers, frozen in disbelief

The mirror cracks evanescent…

Martina Rimbaldo is a woman who lives and works in Croatia. She always keeps a pen and notebook in her purse in case of sudden inspiration. Her work is published in Nightingale & Sparrow, Oddball Magazine, Sage Cigarettes Magazine, Spillwords, Street Light Press, Six Word Stories, and Poezija noći. Her artwork is featured in a weekly blog at Royal Rose Magazine, and her photographs have appeared in Bleached Butterfly and Anti-Heroin Chic. Martina loves to paint abstract paintings, read religious books, and watch horror, as well as old movies with Audrey Hepburn, Sharon Tate, and Brigitte Bardot (who happens to share her birthday). She (over)thinks, especially about death and what some people find morbid, but it's a part of life too. Her goal is to be a good person.