This moment hinges

This moment hinges

on the evening, later,

at the second we realize the sun still falls.

At the mercy of the name

we will give it when language

turns brittle to touch. Later,

with quiet abandon, it will steal

down the red spines of the trees

& the room will empty of

the syllables you held

as you said remember. I remember

the taste of immeasurable morning

balanced like the breadth between us.

I remember your palm,

the pocket of it, plum skies still

streaming with the voices we left.

Author Headshot

Cindy Zhao is a student in British Columbia, Canada.