Poems by Valentina Cano Cosmos The past is a measurement of distance, not time. It is a glow expanding and shrinking, enveloped in dark fur. An animal’s chest teeming with breath. The past happens now across the night, and will continue until our screams run out. Everyday Defeats Walking down the slab of white street, she lost her life. It slipped from her hands and out of the purse with the hole in its side to tumble to a patch of scorched grass. She walked on, thinking of what to cook for dinner and how many drinks she’d allow her hands to pour.           Tomascastelazo The Search I’m searching through papers frozen beneath an entire ocean. The looping handwriting that speaks of tobacco saddles and slick oil against skin is locked, a static scribble. The touch of the years fades the words to a seashell whisper flickering before me.          University of Southern California Libraries A Grandfather His sweat smelled empty as he passed by me. He walked on his rubber-soled toes, bouncing and tightening his arms against his pecked ribs as if they might collapse with a collection of hollow, wooden clatters to the floor. The Inheritance Her compulsion is an echo of his. It mimics his movement like a stuttering shadow, tapping itself raw against a wall. He strokes words and she clicks the mouse button in an increasing pulse. Both their brains chewing themselves to bloody bits across the same room.           1894 Ordnance Survey Valentina Cano is a student of classical singing who spends whatever free time she has either reading or writing. Her works have appeared in numerous publications and her poetry has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Web. Her debut novel, The Rose Master, will be published in 2014. You can find her at carabosseslibrary.blogspot.com.