a sensation of him

Author: Rory Sorenson


Teach me your secret so I can see

the way you listen to your world.

Can I give you something broken?

Would you fix it

or remake it

or just let me be?


We spoke once in a dream you had

I forgot what you said when I asked you to

give me a truth.

I kissed the question

to your hand,

and held its echo to my ear.


You should know

I think

A part of you

will always be inside me.

(Or maybe me in you).


Describe your favourite sound to me.

And why it looks that way.

I found a story for you to whisper,

or roar,

or both.

Just keep it hidden in your lungs.


Because salvation found me early,

—being baptised by your tongue—

you must carry my misdeeds from now.

But you will be my burden

when I am

fluent in speaking you.


I’ll let you close enough

to love me if you promise that

it’s only pretend.

And you can leave

now please.


Take my feet

into your hands,

and press me to the ground.

When it storms, I

smell you in the rain.

(Have you ever tasted lightning?)

It reminds me of your scent

when we first met for the last time.


I’d missed you for eternity

when I heard you hiding moments

in tomorrow.

You sing in your sleep


when you think no one can hear your breath.


Let me act like

this is our final night together.

I’ll return.


Just give me something for my journey,

so I can hold on to my home—

Your calloused hand.

Before I go,

I’ll leave you with

the map your eyes traced

on my skin.

You could find your way to me.

Or not.


When I’ve waited forever to feel you

Beautiful Man,

what’s a few more moments apart?


Featured image courtesy of Mona Khaleghi via Unsplash

burning home

Author: Girish Gupta 

Featured image by Jen Theodore, courtesy of Unsplash

CW: this poem includes references to self-harm and suicide. 

I see these walls burn,

as the heat scorches through my skin

and I wonder to myself,

is this the hottest it could have been?


A flame catches in my sleeve

as I scream and scream and scream

A glass shatters on the floor,

all the pain turns me green


I can feel the loss of breath

as I starve to survive

I remember all my laughter

but pain has been my life


I remember the days I’d fly

high above the ground

They’d look at me and wonder,

who is that so proud?


And I feel me lose myself

as I dwell on fears and worries

But what really slows me down

are all these worldly hurries


I ponder and decide

to put the fire out

despite the scars it’s given me

Indeed, my scars are loud


And I inhale and gulp the heat

as I stand here, just me

Without bells or whistles or glitter

this is the prettiest I can be


I know just in this moment

why I gave up the chance to fly

And I know how to just walk past

all the times I’m asked ‘why?’


I’ve just got to be me,

that is my deepest desire

Yet the lack of this is why

I have lit my house on fire.