Spring 2016, Volume 20

Poetry by Eric Loya

Bossanova of Her

The music is in her; its playing in her hips,
And in her breasts, it's singing in her voice,
Seducing the air to smell of perfume. She moves
In just that way, knowing just that beat, shaking
With just the right amount of bass. It's in the way she tilts
Her head so that her hair sways to the horns and how her cheeks
Feel the flourish of the guitar. To experience her
Is to know the Bossanova, to know the color of her body
And the shape of her desires and to understand the want
Of words for a tune, or a moon for its night. It's the need
To hold her hands in yours, to have your feet in rhythm with the crowd
And to feel their stares like whispers in your ear. It's in the way she keeps
The song close to her chest long after the sound is gone
And the people have left so that the music will blend with hers
And become her own.


—Originally in Volume 3, Summer 2007


BIO: Eric Loya is from Long Beach, California. He currently teaches English at Long Beach City College, West Los Angeles College, and El Camino Community College. His work has appeared in Pearl, Trajectory, Black&White, and Verdad.