“Banshee Teardrops” © Edward Michael Supranowicz



Certainly not whole,
but parts –
sometimes blurry, shattered
liquid-lucent yet insubstantial.
Benign vanilla.

Parts of me occasionally scream,
holler whole –
wide open screams
are Edvard Munch shocking.

People walk past:
my pain is silent, unseen.

Half circles never meet
floating on tepid waters
wholesome, right, moral –
mostly it’s fine
buoying along afloat:
in control
atop feelings,
fractious threads hide,
in passive seas) –
as shaded tentacles
tirelessly safe.

Periodically change beckons:
swaying tidal winds
signalling truth –
a herculean honesty,
plausible possibilities –
a hopeful, warmer nook
to unravel in,
pulling seams, threads willingly
wanting to spill freely…
exposing central cords
as backbones,
threaded with love
stitched like a protest badge
to my splintered heart.

The hurt wavers,
is an unquenchable thirst
spinning on tongues:
non-chewable, untasted
like unaffordable delicacies
that flirt from smear-free windows,
bashful yet blatant
as a sheafed knife’s edge.


Emma Wells is a mother and English teacher. She has poetry published with various literary journals and magazines. She enjoys writing flash fiction and short stories also. Her debut novel, Shelley’s Sisterhood, is due to be published this year.

Edward Michael Supranowicz is the grandson of Irish and Russian/Ukrainian immigrants. He grew up on a small farm in Appalachia. He has a grad background in painting and printmaking. Some of his artwork has recently or will soon appear in Fish Food, Streetlight, Another Chicago Magazine, The Door Is A Jar, The Phoenix, and The Harvard Advocate. Edward is also a published poet who has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize multiple times