The Sun’s First Gift to Her Lover

tell me the name you chose for dawn(eyelids flutter
soft solitude)i know no greater joy than honeysuckle song(no
brighter blush)nor the pronunciation of light(always
falling always falling)kiss like a sun aglow with melody
kiss like you know the taste of fire hazard(kiss like you’re
staying anyway)hold tight to tissue paper sky(in the meantime
call it moth wing call it lavender)no moon not quite time to sleep
(perhaps perhaps perhaps)something bright in this static(call it
the trembling of your body)bone deep limerence(transfixed
in sleep)treble clef lover darling(i sing it from my rose-stained
mouth)and you erupt like the truest alchemy(curve
around sunrise softly blushing)don’t come in yet i am
still not finished painting in(the details of morning)

Topaz Winters is a writer in a raining city. Her poetry, essays, & fiction have been published in Wildness & Winter Tangerine, profiled in The Huffington Post & Cicada Magazine, & commended by the Scholastic Art & Writing Awards & the National YoungArts Foundation, among others. She is the author of Heaven or This (2016) & Monsoon Dream (Platypus Press, 2016), & at 17, she is the youngest Singaporean ever to be nominated for the Pushcart Prize. She was born in 1999 & resides at http://www.topazwinters.com. At this moment she is learning of California poppies, the difference between warm milk & forgetting, & how magic behaves in times of desperate measure.

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