By Priscilla Duran-Luciano

It bleeds
thick red droplets
hiding in the folds
of my ear.
It hurts.
I don’t know
what hurts —
my ear,
my helix,
my cartilage moon,
my heart.
my heart…
who knows.
I carry them,
the bleeding moon,
my sore heart.
They melt
into one
single helix,
and the moon
keeps turning in my ear,
its tides pulling
the last crimson tears out of me
into the dark.

Priscilla Duran-Luciano is a Dominican-born poet and cardiovascular epidemiology researcher based in New York City. Her poetry blends visceral imagery with themes of identity, resilience, grief, and transformation. Outside of writing, she studies the rhythms of the heart, both in science and in the quiet moments of everyday life.

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