Vol. 1, No. 13, March 9, 2014
Edited by Kirk Ramdath
by Erin Hymas
I am saving my stars
Collecting the billion burning points of light in the night sky until my pockets are near
I am tracing the filmy trails connecting the constellations until I find you –
somewhere in Leo’s arched back, his proud strut, king of the beasts with an orange
mane ignited in flames. Birthed in ruby, ruled by the sun; he walks through fire.
Yours is a softer red, the taste of cherry candy and the sweet smell of cinnamon spice.
I can feel that deep crimson, sense the pulsing of your blood at first snowfall when
your skin becomes my furnace. Will your flame ever flicker? Can I make it burn brighter?
I want to mirror your hot white heat, to be the lighthouse that beams when you
cannot sail through fog and darkness. I know that when your world freezes you
will choose to melt through the icicles and the permafrost alone. So I ask this:
If you are ever an open oyster; pink belly empty and exposed to the sky
Let my stars be your pearls
Erin Hymas is a university student and avid tea lover. When she's not
drowning in piles of homework or working retail, she splits her time between
drawing comic books, watching zombie movies, and snuggling with her two
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