top of page

Dos Gardenias by Adriana Stimola

Updated: Mar 16, 2023

When you picked two

fresh gardenias, perfume

pumping, packed them

in a box to cross a continent,

kept from sun, I asked why you’d deliver

death to my doorstep. Did you expect

they’d brown-paper burst, brilliant,

singing songs of Spring?

You said you did. And never did

the story ring of anything but bruises—

of night ships and trains missed; of glasses

pink and coy but only ever worn by one—the kind

that presses lips into silent, I’m so-sorry-smiles.

I told it so I wouldn’t have to look.


ADRIANA STIMOLA is a non-fiction literary agent, mother and ever-aspiring poet. Her poetry has been featured in numerous publications, including: The Santa Clara Review, Beyond Words, Harbor Review, House Journal, Juke Joint and High Shelf Press.

90 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

How To Have a Mid-Life Crisis by Susan Peck

Your existential dread must reach a crescendo. Your fifteen-year-old daughter Brie walks into your study to tell you, “Dad, can you not come to my parent-teacher conference.” She explains how you’re t

Don't Hold Your Breath by Konner Sauve

Catch my eye again Misery and hope lumped together I swore I’d curse your presence, but sprinkles fall softly on this barren ground The throbs of my soul shake the earth as misery cracks the land. The


bottom of page