Written by Callan Latham
Together, we are not an island. We don’t say each other’s
names as much anymore. Water collects in the bowl
and I can’t see your face. I imagine what it would be like
to close a fist over earth—wet and solid and digging
into my nails. I learned that my favorite part of you is the part
I can’t always see. We were hummingbirds back then,
sucking up false nectar to survive the day. I want to disappear
just so you can find me again. Imagine the future, a blood-soaked thing,
but blood as life. We hold the fireflies in our mouths
because we have been lightning-struck. Our hopes are of glass.
We shatter like stones being made into something new.
I dig into the soil, my hands finally breaking through.
When I am at the core, I plant the seeds we will never speak of
again. They will bloom some day, red and gold in the loneliest way.
outlander zine 