Hawai’i
Christina Lamoureux
On the last night of the kingdom, the queen braided plumeria and looked into Tuna’s brains for an answer miles away. The blossoms sprouted from her fingers and stretched their petals toward the crash of the ocean as the sky flashed an ominous green.
Krishna Sharma
Aumakua, my ancestors, she prayed to rotted stone against a sky of exploding stars, if they must take me, let me go as Pele did and eat them whole. The dawn rose with the flapping of ship’s sails and the cries of manifest destiny. 25