by Haley King

after “Afterimage” by Ben Cooper

Every poem I’ve read is the same story, what should be
whole. The one that made the moon

over my skin, the sun’s flaming flesh,
drawing mine. The poem that made me

understand how darkness interacts with our bodies
and traces the light. I’ve seen ships disappear

into sea; clouds turn to sun, making new light, making new
shapes, making new. I can’t focus

my pupils skyward. The light can’t come
in. Everything stays. Dark. Things don’t move

in that dark. Everything goes stagnant. Everything
stays full. Maybe this one will change how I need to be
completed.

Haley King is a student at Salisbury University majoring in Biology and English-Creative Writing. She is a poetry editor at 149 Review and the managing editor of her school’s literary magazine. Her poetry is featured or forthcoming at swamp pink, The Shore, Slipstream, The Inflectionist, Hawai’i Pacific Review, Broken Plate, and more.