FEATURED POETRY: H(a)unting by Hanna Krishna S. Callora

This place is where I find the same old song

The same old song that haunts me phantomwise

Sometimes we deal with bruises for too long

We keep them hidden from our waking eyes.

A block of ice is lodged inside my throat

The smokescreen I have built will never last

I thought my soul has fin’lly fled to float

Among the ghosts of long forgotten past.

The time has come for me to go back home

I crawl into the fort I’ve built with salt

I pray to gods below the rain would come

To drown the mem’ry of his rash default.

            (There are no signs; there are no stars aligned.*

            I’ve scattered little parts of me behind.)

*This is a beautiful line from St. Vincent's song, "All My Stars Aligned."