I believe Conchitina Cruz’s lyricism thrives in prose poems more than in the typical poems with enjambment. Although I enjoyed the images of still life, infidelity, and desire in this follow-up to Dark Hours, the prose poems in her debut summons a certain kind of magic that this second collection lacks. I, nevertheless, am amused with the manner in which the city influences once again Cruz’s writing, as if the city isn’t mere inspiration but a firm informant of her poetry and confessions.

“Send me to the moon,” a four-page poem in which the persona begs for the love of a man, is my absolute favorite.