Imagine moving on

I hide our memories in the sun, disguised in fiery threat from plain sight. Reality comes often, sweating in shades, powerless in the blazing face of a natural fantasy. I spin the rays around your smile, chameleons around another chameleon, blending by being, breaking my heart by staying— yet after terrible days, it’s holding onto things that could have been that holds me together, even though they bring me close to someone who I can only call by name in the dark, alone.

Winter wasn’t dry enough

Arid air on cracked skin, cracked despite hydrous effort, etchin lines into red cheeks on a vanquished face feigning warmth, sinking behind serrate bones that couldn’t help cutting.

and then suddenly, there you were

Breeze-filled diaphragm, chrysalises danced, wings traced, inscribing laughter, forcing lungs to expel roughly, cheeks rose, blood donated water, cliffs into riversides, lips curved into love-flushed deltas, joyfully shaping laughter into the syllables of your name.

Luke enjoys biking, qualitative research, IU’s prolific body of work, and playing video games with faraway friends. Is also an MS1 at UCSD. Hopes to make some music soon. One time.

Author Acknowledgements

Thank you to...

The Aurora Journal, for the surrealism poetry workshops that taught me ways to share things missing from my stories. My former writing teachers: Larry Edgerton, Carol Hudson, Rain Wilson, and Meghan O’Gieblyn. Those who read my writing at some point and made me feel supported: Maddie, Connor, Isaac, Tiffany, Natalie, and Sam.