est. 2022
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ISSUE 5: AEVUM
[we highly recommend reading on desktop for optimal experience]
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JULIA LIU
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Interlaken, 2019
Julia Liu | Poetry
& it's only july, but slivers of rust fester
in the sink. these days i find longing
in the strangest places: between
pavement cracks, inside the marmalade
jar, the loss in the straw of my
matcha latte. & yet, this is all i can remember:
your laugh when i told you i bled
my sorrows onto paper instead people, stuffy
summer rain (salty on the tongue),
the squirrel you ran over for dinner
(produce is scarce nowadays), words
that are not mine jammed inside my larynx.
& now? at dawn i check my pulse, ask
fickle gods for reprieval. remember
that remission is only what makes
up distance between sorrow & indulgence.
listen: i want to tell you that my eyes
still haven’t stopped stinging, that Ma
once took my hands & sang—the whisper
that is silenced becomes a dog who bites back tenfold.
Proximity
Julia Liu | Poetry
so let’s / take / it back, your fingers / planting / bomb / seeds / in my / throat / where / every / poem / starts / & ends / with us / well / every love / poem / & by this / i mean / all / my / poems / & this is / to say / last / november / i took / a cab / down / south, / went to / New York / with your / hand / in / my / pocket / we kissed / in the / shadow / of so many / lights / your tongue / a match / my tongue / my tongue / or is that / my / heart / we lie / skin / to skin & instead / of kissing / now / we count / job / rejections / how many / teeth / we’ve lost, / the number / of / ways / you can / tie / a tie / would you? / so on / & so / forth / over / a cup / of coffee, maybe / dinner & / a movie / first / the film / runs / like a bullet, / hits / like / one too / Background Character 1 / faces / Background Character 2, / nods out / of / sorrow / or courtesy / i’m never able / to tell / & after / you hold my bangs / steady with your lips / & after / i’m crying / sorry / this week’s / weather / forecast / all / rain & i’m / sorry / we’re so / warm / & i’m / trying / to say / i love / you / in the way / not every poem / has to / be / a love poem / not every / poem / has / to end
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Julia Liu is a Chinese writer based in New England. An American Voices medalist, she has received recognition from the Scholastic Art & Writing Awards, Pulitzer Center, and Connecticut Poetry Society. Her work has been nominated for Best of the Net as well as the Pushcart Prize, and appears in Eunoia Review, CUTBOW Quarterly, Hot Pot Magazine, among others. When not creating, she enjoys cafe hopping, doing crossword puzzles, and collecting too many Smiskis.
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