Eliana Rodríguez


Eliana Rodríguez is a sophomore who has been creating art since she was in elementary. She is now pursuing becoming an inspiring writer. She enjoys designing characters, creating meaningful art, and is inspired by many authors to create a TV or comic series of her own.


It first occurs as a wave coursing through every inch of my face and striking my heart
like a burning arrow. Pressure embraces the bottom of my eyes while the corners
soften, now there’s a slight bee sting at the bridge of my nose.
My fingers dance around each other in a way that should’ve left them bent and
bruised. I lose the sense in my feet, then my ankles, then my thigh, until I’m unaware
of my entire leg being gone. The stinging on my nose is immense, my lungs feel like
wax bleeding onto skin.
I wonder if I’m even breathing. My lips are chipped wood but I run through it
anyway. I can’t hear my throat rattle the remaining air left in my incinerator that was
once my lungs. Liquid is burning my vision, tickling my jawline, all the way down my
chin. And so I weep with no air left in my frame.



The very peak of the white rays that consume your house and attack through your
blinds is the beginning of my breath and the beginning of your day. Every cloud that
covers you from my rays is merely my way of shading you from burning up when I
am at my highest reach above you and the rest of the Earth. I do not see myself as
superior. But of great responsibility of being your friend.
Every color surrounding your sight turns into the sweetest pink, brightest yellow, and
softest blue; until the ends of the horizon. I’m welcoming and calming, I remind you
that your day is almost over, that your problems are in the past of today, and
yesterday, and the day before that.


Santa Solia

My mother’s skin and bones belong within the soils and waters of Mexico. Her very
flesh was molded with the fingers of a God and every form and shape of her is from
God’s nails and fingerprints. The running water making puddles inside the room she
was born in was taken to her body where it gave it life. And with God sighing, a child
was born in the very soils of and waters of Mexico.

© The Acentos Review 2017