Illustration by Mimi Mutesa @mimimutesa
Two celestial bodies would meet—
Saturn and Jupiter.
Two globes of gas in orbit,
each a storm in its own. An unfathomable rush
of dust, an illusory presence.
So much emptiness between those whirls
I could swallow you whole.
Two skulls kiss in the darkness.
A clatter of teeth like thunder.
Tongues nervously reaching out, the two sweaty palms at prom
warming into each other like a hug.
All the love in the world happened under this very sky.
When I ran up the metal staircase
there were no stars,
a cloth of night holding the glass sky
like a gift.
Just the moon, empress behind her pearls and silks,
and me, alone.
Silver band nestled in a plush red, my pale lips rapt.
Two smokers stand next to me on the balcony,
apologising, and smoke, anyway.
Stars of ash scatter.
My lungs fill with fire,
my eyes tear from the sides.
Melting sclera, the moon rushes past me.
Sean Wang (he/him) is from the tropical island of Singapore. When he is not reading, writing or editing, he spends his time searching for the best matcha lattes. Originally a notes app poet, he is now exploring notes app flash fiction and essays. His writing has appeared in Rattle, Capsule Stories, Dismantle and others. He edits for Outlander Zine and Ginger Bug Press. He is interested in the articulation of suffering and the mythologisation of the personal.