by Nora Nadjarian
You’ll search for me everywhere, and finally when you find me, I’ll know what the word relief looks like. Relief is your face when I enter your studio and land - after I’ve been flying out and up and elsewhere - fully clothed and moonlit. You’ll catch some of that with your eyes, envious of the silver dust on my sandals, and of the little tear on my long dress where the corner of a star ripped it slightly. “It’s been a while,” you’ll say. “This time I’ll paint you. Next time we’ll fly together.”
Nora Nadjarian is a poet and writer from Cyprus. Her first collection of short stories, Ledra Street, was published in 2006. Her poems and short stories have been included in anthologies and journals internationally, including May Day: Young Literature from the Ten New Member States of the European Union, published by the European Commission. In 2009, her story “And the Seven Dwarves” was a finalist from over 900 submissions in the Binnacle Sixth Annual International Ultra-Short Competition at The University of Maine at Machias (USA).