Stoop Kids
ten minutes before the aftermath, you will find me smoking,
praying for an afterlife, knowing that if you died, i’d die too.
i want to punish anyone who doesn’t take this love seriously.
the rain always threatened us, but the real enemy
was always false spring. between my god and me,
we’ve decided that summer will bring you back to me.
your calling is a misdirection, and someday you’ll want a new religion,
so, follow me into the ocean, and it can be sacred again.
we were stoop kids once, and i now live in a stick dream
where you light my cigarette for me.
Praxis
a theory is a metaphor is a poetic device is a song of desire
a theorist is a poet is a lover
a lens is glass is sand is a particle
a physicist is an astronomer is an arranger is a florist is a poet
a flower is a message is a letter is a sailor’s yearning is distraction
is redirection is a poetic device is a metaphor is a theory of my love for you
Lost Mail
In the mailroom, twelve feet under,
we are searching for your valentine’s letter.
My obsession had spread to everyone I live with;
like always, I make my problem everyone else’s.
I am 24 hours from leaving forever, and I cannot
bear the thought of it becoming lost mail.
Februaries have come and gone, and the universe
has undone its punishment. I don’t search anymore.
Sapphires, flowers and ceramic spoons occupy us now.
I will never know what you said that year, and I cannot
shake it, the fear that someone has shred your letter.
Aayushi is a PhD student who deeply cares about mental health, education, and art. She loves bougainvillea, journaling, and cats. She attends to her dreams almost as much as she attends to the world in her waking life. Poetry is her whimsical friend who comes to her once every few years.