from Waiting for Lightning
Sometimes life is built on lies,
and I forgive him for that. At the end,
when dopamine had given up on him,
and serotonin vanished from the blank screen
of his brain, I wondered where the lightning went,
the violence of hope, the ozone of pure promise.
–from “Waiting for Lightning” from To Sip Darjeeling at Dawn by Donna Pucciani (Virtual Artists Collective 2011). First published in Jabberwock.