if i were to be a patron saint of anything

by B. Montemayor

David Pupăză

let it be of mangoes. of hearts cast in stone. or else, inanimate objects with a hairpin’s mortality. i want to be the patron saint of women trapped in flea market paintings, their knowing gaze a mirrored stillness. perhaps a mise en abyme, an artistic abyss. the kind of death i’ll only get to know when i am canonized for my trivial deeds. let me be the patron saint of lost, defunct websites whose links wormhole into a 404 Error, where poetry in fractal rhythms go to die. if they can allow it, please tell them to let me be the patron saint of the Luzon bleeding-heart dove ⁠ — sins red and worn out in the open as i have often failed to do, and therefore have much to atone for. let me watch over tombstones, so i can touch memory without having to hurt. nothing that lasts long enough for the echoes of love to taste sour. when i stand in the gallows, remind them of gentleness. i only want the remembering, with the least of catastrophes.

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B. Montemayor is a poetry & speculative fiction writer from the Philippines who spends her free time playing indie games & tinkering with her fantasy novel. She has a couple of forthcoming poems with Ouch! Collective.