transience by Olivia Hu

the fog is spitting straws of sunlight, the edges crisp like blades. sister’s hair is bouncing like waves as you run down the dock, the board swerving like drunk lungs, breath intoxicated. the night is painting the sky hues of desperation and angst. the waves start lamenting its heartache again, sings songs of lust and […]

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shadows in summer by Olivia Hu

last summer, sunlight spilled through window panes and formed two shadows of us,  the outlines smoothing like butter. i let the warmth of the streaks fill you before i attempted myself, empty against empty trying to build up a fortress. the sillage of lavenders waft through the air tinging pink noses, the sweetness quenching our […]

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Goodbye by Olivia Hu

The sun is dim and the sky a painted canvas of mellow indigo. There are no stars in the night, only blobs of missed paint, flaws. The night echoes with hollow sighs and we are the ones filling up the abyss. Our whispers sound like blades and our tenderness mistaken for manipulation. You hold my […]

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blind love by Olivia Hu

mama brings home the baby, doesn’t sing any songs to it. instead she is a lullaby of sighs, eyes tinged with water clear like diamonds. she says the baby’s distorted, leaves it on tables that resemble surgery boards. throws away organic milk and picks up prescriptions instead, gives away lotions for topical creams. the baby […]

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the pianist by Olivia Hu

she is touching the keys of the piano like a long-lost lover, kneading edges soft and strong, skin raw from love and lust. she cradles every note like a child, trying to drink up the melodies like 5-ounce glasses of vodka. tilts her head back, gasps immeasurably and the notes follow her breath. they try […]

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