Stasis In Pastel Blue

By Evgeniya Dineva

Stasis in Pastel Blue is a collection of short pieces and poems exploring topics such as loss, love and friendship. The works appear in various literary journals or are forthcoming in anthologies across the US, India, the UK and others.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ukiyoto Publishing
• Release date: Apr 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9789361727306

Book preview

Poetry

Stabbing Jellyfish and Getting Away With It

Our feet sink into sand

as the ocean spits up seaweed

tied in knots impossibly hard

to grasp with our toes,

turning us into sea

beasts as well.

Amid the rubbery jewels

I notice that silvery hands

sprawl unplucked. Those

once deadly tentacles

are now just helpless threads

tangled in seaweed:

bodies torn away from hands,

finally free from poison,

no longer the fearsome creatures

from the stories I read when I was six.

You watch me in silence

while I pick up a stick

to sink into the soap-like bodies.

I've never done this before,

this exhilarating exploration,

so I'm confused when my eyes

collide with yours,

my smile greeted by a frown

when I pass the stick

and you shake your head no.

Later I'll watch you

disappear down the sunlit road;

I'll remember your disappointment

reflected in their glinting skin.

Stabbing your small stick

into dead tissue won't hurt it.

You know you can.

My Heart-Shaped Bruise

The fairy-blue smoke escapes the lips 

then curls around the slim,

so - familiar fingers 

of your beautiful hands - 

once wrapped around me, in me- 

the scent to dance above us and dissolve 

in the stale air

of the motel room at the corner of 45th and Elm. 

It’s the time I’m the happiest 

it’s when I’m the saddest

as I stare at the clock numbers melting 

on the light of the dawn

threatening to break in

through the thick curtains. 

I’m a puddle of disjoined human parts, 

limbs, bones and them being fragile 

it’s you leaving 

and me lying here

scattered 

shattered

with my breaths dissipating 

it’s my proof this happened 

it’s my heart-shaped bruise 

no matter what’s to come.

A Perfect Circle

I pierce my finger

on a fragile blade of grass.

The red trickles down my palm,

my forearm

to fall in thick drops

on the raw soft ground.

Blood stains the earth

until it soaks and disappears in it

and until a new stalk

grows out of it.

***

The sugary syrup drips

down your lips

then trickles to your chin,

so I outstretch my hand

to wipe the juice

with my finger

and approach it to my lips

to lick the sweet liquid

that once belonged

to your skin.

Nighthawks, But It’s A Tuesday Afternoon

Creamy-butter amber spills

through the thick window blinds

 to drip inside in heavy beads, 

the colour of summer daffodils.

It leaves wet, burnt-orange traces 

on the black tiled floor

as it continues its invasion 

of the big room.

The liquid sunlight evaporates 

at the touch with the dark clover surface 

of a small wooden table

neatly tucked in the shadowy corner 

of an empty diner on 52nd Street.

Illumination scatters

shaping a dancing crescendo

of a thousand dusty particles

and they move gracefully

under the lulling sounds

 of the jukebox, playing a

forever- since forgotten melody 

of a pop- song from the 90-ies.

All that while the moving hands 

of the clock hanging on the wall opposite the bar

are strumming with their long nails

 through the face of time to leave the dial 

with the invisible scars

of wasted minutes passing

and eventually lost.

The seat opposite mine remains vacant.

I cast my eyes down and pin them

to the melting cream

of my large vanilla shake.

 I watch the heavy red cherry

sinking slowly in,

disappearing in the foamy embrace 

of my second drink.

I plunge the cloudy -silver spoon

 into the glass and keep on counting.

You said I was overly childish for always

getting the sweetest

possible from the menu.

I thought I was childish for always

asking you out and hoping 

you might come this time.

Fireflies on Venus

Evening breeze hides among

tree leaves

shudders, surprising them

as its breath spills through

your fingers entwined with mine.

And you tell me

about that years- old story

of the firefly who fell in love

with Venus

thinking the planet was like him

a fragile shiny creature

of all childhood nights

And I wonder as I’m looking up at