Inside me is something I’ve held before.
It’s shiny and pristine. Mirrors myself
in the most asymmetrical way. Here
I check to see if lines will break apart.
I need stability. I’m so sick of
shoving squares into circular pegs. Stab
the edges until they fit, became whole
with the moon. Then watch it set. Watch us die.
Watch us catch moonbeams, moonstruck, thinking
The sun will never be enough for us.
The sphere of all spheres is much too busy
crafting squares from triangles, pulling us
apart. Once I let go, I realize that
there’s nothing I can do to break our spell.
Ottavia Paluch is a disabled high school student from Ontario, Canada. A Gigantic Sequins Teen Sequin for 2018, her work is published or forthcoming in The Cerurove, Alexandria Quarterly, The Rising Phoenix Review, and The Hellebore, among other places.
ISSUE TWENTY TWO: Less Malty Rye
Ottavia Paluch
Sonnet for Squares
Samantha Duncan
Hunt Mother
Hunter Therron
In Fever Sleep A Year Later
Melissa Eleftherion
Poetry Walk
Ephemeroptera
Gordon Blitz
Marking