Written by: Hana Ryusaka

I have a capacity for love

that stretches every time he makes me

a dust-mote in the iridescent

ocean of eye-light.

I’m suspended in time and in 

place, yet I swell.

I know I could grow forever, 

glittering like amethysts and pearls before swine

until I puncture the universe

and leak out in increments 

through the stratosphere.

He makes me stop breathing

and still go on

-heedless, regardless, relentless-

I could suck the stars dry,

but until my lips touch his

I’m only this:

The air you hold in your lungs too long

before your first time flying.