The life-giving mountain.
When molten, amber.
Burning coconut husk.
To matte, ashen gray.
Then gun-metal blue.
Then gone below.
Sunken behind the mirror.
Surface, leaves behind
The soupy world of.
Time-broken bleached, shark teeth reefs in youth.
Wrapped taught like a singing moonstone bow.
School of lost children.
Fish sequin flashing of light.
Footfall softened by coarse sand.
To the shallows. Scrapes on jagged coral.
Twin knees that bleed and bleed.
Seabird’s childish squawking.
Shark fin warnings.
Saltwater in a perfectly ro.
A whale shark's hellish, mottled hue.
I Don’t Know His Name
Six minutes with teeth grit
at the slant fall of snow
Seven, I realize this very wind
carried my dad off our sunstricken isle
eventually taking me with it.
All the luxuries of freedom in
the infinity of a newborn
You had better things to fucking do?
Shit. Sorry, Dad. That was ungrateful.
I know raising me is a damn chore.
Anyways… Did you know babies can
sense abandonment? Laughable,
23, it’s nearly tangible..
It’s the buoy keeping me
afloat in an abysmal lake.
I could just sink, forget.
Or crawl up the riverbed.
It’s someone like my mom getting acupuncture
the confusing awareness of pinpricks
why? how? Did my mom try to stop you?
What did leaving us feel like? Did you like it?
I exhale smoke. Did you know I smoke?
You’re not disappointed, I hope.
Multiple exes have asked for my birth time while reading my tarot.
I don’t suppose you know?
I can ration out my thoughts of you.
A moment to last
more than a year.
I remembered you existed
on New Years.
You’ve been occupying my mind violently
completely unwelcome. I feel powerless
to making you leave, but I know
I’ll figure it out eventually.
That can be my resolution.
Annar Amram, 23, is a proud and floundering Pacific Islander. As a transracial adoptee, they wound up living in Oregon. They owe their love of poetry to AO3, Alt-J, and their best friends.