re: touching

Sal Kang

it was an inviting tail end of summer


the kind that reminds you of warmth

by revealing the absence of it


+


we carried bottles of water home

from the corner store & joked

that we could make a life out of this


+


I relearned how to love the the same

way I learned the times table


+


relearned that there were still masks between you  

& I & just kept peeling peeling peeling


half expecting one of us to run


+


you, wrapped around my body like thick foam  


you, vanishing outside the airport


+


I want to love thoughtlessly in this world


+


it was the tail end of summer. there was a sea wind  

& you could still count the stars with your finger.


I said I love you & a sea urchin

kept blooming in my mouth


+

+

+


let us be stones, refracting one ray of light





___







Sal is a professional sluggard and occasional writer. Her work has been published in Canvas Literary Journal, The Rappahannock Review, and Yes Poetry, among others. She spends most of her free time sleeping and reading Anne Carson.