Unvoiced - by Jan Richard

A setting sun as September dims

in hidden peaks of youthful whims;

descending amidst our saintly sins—

descending behind your somber grin.

Glittered by the stars away and above,

along and among their cosmic doves,

through wolf-cuts and knob-like ties,

I once knew those purple eyes.

A first desire, a seldom Spring—

a final fire, a severed string;

waiting outside your wide-shut door

to crumple and curse me a little more.

December 24th, can you hear me?

I miss the kids we used to be.

You'll pave the way and I'll burn the trail—

now a bed of flowers for whom I could not save.

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Cover page by Daivika Shetty