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If only you were
That summer night air forgot to
breathe, I forgot something too.
Not sure what, but I remember
a star landed in the curved moon
—I saw it in the reflection
of my steaming apple tea
I remember wanting to
tell you, I witnessed a celestial love:
A lone star found her place
rested in the crescent’s embrace
I thought you’d love the story, a love
defying geography. I wondered
if you were seeing what I was, if
our gazes collided
above the thin cotton clouds. I giggled
thinking perhaps it’d count
as a date. I remember
I heard you, in the barely
flowing air, your voice a hushed ghost
I tried to keep you, so
I put light between my fingers
In the wispy gray, you sounded
a little more present, defying
our past and our future—
The stale smoke
smelt nothing like you, but I
remember how it loomed around me
that night, and we watched
In the reflection,
moon and star, until
ripples swallow them into dark auburn
Copyright ©
Jasmine Tsai
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