pacify by Sylvia Sun

like

lamb grazing on sunny spots, that’s how I bore it. those

crushing aches of blood, blood gone wrong in the

head, a quiet imbalance.

there are things, like feeling

the bones of my knuckles and ribs. soft

boiled oats and thin-woven black sweaters. a click

of my teeth on a water glass. it’s nothing more

than night blooming from day; a subtle

breaking. glowing lemon grass

so luminous it seems to smolder.

it all reminds me of you, somehow. I wonder how you

witness light, from within hazy eyes.

blue eyes, you said,

make the radiance an agony.

a heart can

growl like a stomach, and be so unsettled. I like the

thin veins in my skin like a shadow. like rain

tracing trails on a window, as though it weren’t sand.

sun, I need you

again, I’m sorry. chewing my photographs leaves me still cold.

to gulp you down like a liquor; to

pacify ache, and change,

and affection, and hunger.

Sylvia Sun is an undergraduate university student studying English literature and Japanese. She adores writing and reading poetry and is especially fascinated by poetry as a means to explore and express the complex and nuanced emotions of the human experience, particularly as they may be reflected through sensory experiences and in our perception of nature.

"A Growing Sun" By: Rosella Weigand