writer: alloe mak

editor: elim chan

looking at you makes me feel as if i have finally ascended. suddenly, i am all-knowing. contradictions are rectified and questions are answered by the simplicity of your soft breaths. for a moment, i feel as if i can conceptualize everything. i understand the true, nonlinear form of you—how you are everywhere. 

oh how it burns me; this torturous facsimile of heaven.

i want to love you as artists do. i want to paint you and adore you; collapse at your feet and have my absolution carved into marble as infinite oblivion. i want to enshrine your very existence; my imploration be memorialized and grieved upon for centuries to come. i want to pen you like a poet who can play with that eternal turning of a page; a gesture that renders you seemingly possible for a moment, even if you exceed all intention. 

in this state of decadent indulgence, it has never been more clear to me that i owe you everything. i will make the stars beg for your mercy if you ask; i will remove the planets in the sky for a galactic bouquet. i will write shakespearean sonnets about how you send my world spinning off its axis; rip my seams apart so i might understand how life itself seems to form from your touch. 

tears like isicles, irisis like nebulas. 

that curve of a spine, hitch of a breath. 

i see Saturn in your skin, stars in the bruises on your knees. 

so burn my arms with cigarettes, embellish them with singed skin. through the coppice and chaparral, bury through the calcium mines of my body. i want you to devour me so i can examine you from inside. i want to see your heart, its frying neutrinos and gamma rays. i want you to light me on fire so i might be your martyr—burn on the stairway to heaven so that the Lord himself can see how radioactive you are to my being.

lights dwindling, night-dew collecting on park benches and playground swings, i think of how you make my soul cry. shamelessly overdosing and overindulging—to be high on your dramamine is to look up to see as if the sun is exploding. you are too much medication—g forces twisting my heart as stars burst across the inky night for what im sure is on behalf of nothing but your brief entertainment and awe.

in the deep darkness of night, i dream of long highways and dark fields. endless roads all leading into a dawn; the colour of canola fields. the colour of autumn leaves, the colour of a summer afternoon bathed in your presence. often, i dream of gazing into the bright blaze of your cloudless sky. i wake up thankful that my night has been restless.