Life And Death In An Aquarium City
You don’t remember your own birth, but somehow you remember
the city’s. Each sharp-edged structure flimsy against the timeless water. After decades
of working past two a.m., plum eyes ripened by the glow of the laptop screen, you
wish the buildings would split sooner, that erosion would speed up like a film reel
and bring everything back to black-and-white smoothness, obedience
to chronology, the passage of time. Instead: stale water. Disembodied hand
of God feeling around in the glass bowl.
shadow-slender, breath- gowned, rising to the surface.
Esther Sun is a Chinese-American writer from the Silicon Valley in Northern California. A 2020 American Voices nominee, she has been recognized for her writing by the National Young Arts Foundation, Bennington College, and the Alliance for Young Writers and Artists. Esther’s poems are forthcoming from or have appeared in Up North Lit, Vagabond City, Anthropocene, and more.