By KAREN LEE

Crinkled sheets and cascaded shadows
Oh sinful sun, I gobbled it whole
Rolled around my mouth, underneath my tongue
Silken days were no longer
Underneath starlit skies because back then
When my palms blossomed droplets before you

You flinched, and
I thought I would never see you again

A torn page feathering at the edges
Sizzling tongues from piping hot soups
You were gravity when the world shook
A steel embrace hissing behind my ears
Crystal caves with diamond encrusted walls
Were never a match for you

You could swallow me
As I laid in the water, scathing

Bleaker truths never escaped from your gated lips
Grains would sunder from your touch
Coddling, trembling
You tore ripples across my irises
Stratifying the lens, a telescope in your eyes
When will I see the salt of the earth, through you?

Writer | Karen Lee ’25 | kslee25@amherst.edu
Editor | Sam Huang ’26 | lhuang26@amherst.edu