Category: Sole Image
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Yuna SongYuna Song (she/her) is currently an English major at Cypress College. She enjoys writing poems when the creative juices start flowing, which is usually at 3 AM. Yuna loves the mango green milk tea with boba and star jelly from GongCha as well as her mom’s kimchi jjigae!
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When I was a little girl I heard whistling.I was with Mama at the grocery storeand ran off to find what I’d heard.Then I saw him, old, frail, happy.He was whistlin’ while picking up groceries.He whistled and walked while getting milk,whistled and whistled, getting bread n’ cheese.Mama got mad; she never whistled ever. I was…
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she watches overin anticipation for movementthe lone tree on his last legsslivers of green shine througha field of wheat taking controlthe last visitors walk bycompletely unawareof the abandonment in the air « Previous post Next post »
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A blue carpet with spots and swirls,children laughing, playing, jumping, dancing,through the window and beyond the palms, a couple, putting. He sizes up, strokes the ball, and misses and looking up at her he smiles;her hands on her stomach, large, with their hope cradled, a future, a difference, a legacy. Their blood mixed into one,…
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Distant and out of reach,I exist here watching the sun rise and fall with time in suspense,drifting into muse and being swallowed by the unknown,using nothing but the illusion of senses to ground weak rootsI hide myselfthrough curtains of blue weeping wisteria blossoms,for if you could look past them you would see the disease that…
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Take me back to my bed, and place yourself in it.Take me back to the first place we danced.The first place I knew I loved you.When you take me, leave the regret, the heartache,wipe the slate clean, and help me be reborn. I see myself in the card of death you drew, a rose in…
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some people wear their depression like a cellophane coat–thin, transparent.it’s see-through,thinning enamel on a full set of teeth, one bite and it hurts;an ultra-expressive face donning an unimpressive mask;leathery skin, a telltale sign that alerts those with magnifying glasses for eyes that the sickly body is days away from clattering on the floor[a collection of…
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To keep watch,a terrace overlooks the night.Walking in from the shadows,the specks fall from the sky.Four tables, empty, at the midnight café.each window left wide awake,serving a connection from person to person.Blue-yellow pebbles line the street,reflecting off the silhouette of a couplewho’s dinner sits underthe terrace looking over the night.
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cherry pits sinking to the bottom of porcelain.little painful remindersof the body as machineas miracleas menace viscous in feelingcaliginous in [it’s] crimson;a rite of passage. like a heart attack — sharp, stabbing shocks.a starting point.a necessary exodus.
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beams of life dripped through gaps of glassmy eyelids shivered, contracted from themorning tangyou slide me closer,my body fused with yours five minutes turned to tenturned to thirty we jostled out of bed and tumbledbetween routines i kissed your cheek and you met my lips with asmile, churning my blood to myincandescent cheeks “i’ll see…
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