Lost Angeles

Poetry by Laney Burrell

I lost
Your voice
mountains
smog
the hills
the luxe
Your face
star-speckled sidewalks
wax museums
cement hands (Dean Martin’s)
and feet (Marilyn’s)
a labyrinth
in a bookstore? (the last one)
echo park
and its time machine
myself
at least half parking garages
white letters (“Hollywood”)
snow-topped Matterhorn
and a small castle
magic?
an adventure
Us (together)
our small world
hand-in-hand
the same time zone
and Bleu de Chanel
But not my plane ticket
That, unfortunately,
I found


Laney Burrell is a recent grad from Flagler College, where she majored in English and minored in creative writing. She’s incredibly honored to be a part of Capulet Mag’s first edition! Her work has been published by Local Wolves, The Missing Slate, and FLARE.

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