issue three / reverie
Aerial
Allison Wu
weightless, we exhale our bodies until
we are the sky, dampened by night.
motes of stars percolate from within us,
grasping for the horizon. the constellations
hold no answers, and even up here
as we mold to atmospheres, our
torsos a world apart, we are nowhere,
invisible in the alien folds of
dimension, our existence gauged by only
functionality: the canvas for migration,
a presumed lullaby, a pristine sheet
blanketing life. we stay primordial
and forgotten, a distance reckoned
and slipped between the aching
curves of our limbs. glued to our
vastness, no way of translating
this untouchable infiniteness we hold
against the sleeping skyline
like a cruel promise. we stay foreign
bodies in this celestial sphere, warped
in the whites of eyes. the dark
was once heavenly, like an unfaded
homeland. our own tiny universe
burning so undoubtedly alive.
we are the sky, dampened by night.
motes of stars percolate from within us,
grasping for the horizon. the constellations
hold no answers, and even up here
as we mold to atmospheres, our
torsos a world apart, we are nowhere,
invisible in the alien folds of
dimension, our existence gauged by only
functionality: the canvas for migration,
a presumed lullaby, a pristine sheet
blanketing life. we stay primordial
and forgotten, a distance reckoned
and slipped between the aching
curves of our limbs. glued to our
vastness, no way of translating
this untouchable infiniteness we hold
against the sleeping skyline
like a cruel promise. we stay foreign
bodies in this celestial sphere, warped
in the whites of eyes. the dark
was once heavenly, like an unfaded
homeland. our own tiny universe
burning so undoubtedly alive.
Allison Wu is a highschool student from New York. Her work has been recognized by the Alliance for Young Artists & Writers and Hollins University.