Cape No. 7
by Alicia Hsu
Note: Inspired by the movie Cape No. 7 (2008).
distance whittled us into mere love letters
puddles of guilt, tear stains on paper
folded one too many times.
you wallow in a sorrow that i long to feel
foolish; as if after all this time our bodies are connected somehow.
our words peel off stamped pages
fluttering into the ocean between us
soaked handwriting in the mouths of fish
and moving on is almost as painful
as the bird of hope we gave birth to.
somewhere in the universe
we are watching our sentences
fall victim to the salt-drowned sea
and hating the sun.
the casino
by Alicia Hsu
i live in a palace of indigo
where dusk is dawn, the sun ever in limbo.
i watch hands wave away the ghost of cigarette smoke
and pull joysticks like lollipops from toddlers’ mouths.
fervent arcade voices prick at mothers
who usher their children away, afraid of the way it calls them.
still, i fall for its beckoning into
endless time; a choked hourglass
slowly sifting sand as it holds my foot to the pedal.
i see my future in the grey man staring blankly
at rolling gold coins and sangria cherries.
this isn’t home yet, but it could be, and
greed chases luck into my hollow belly
as i grasp at sunlight straws—
carving away my soul, washing up
on the shores of glory.
About the Author
Alicia Hsu is a high school senior in New York. Her work has appeared in Eunoia Review, Skipping Stones Magazine, and more. When she isn’t writing down her thoughts, you can find her escaping in a fantasy novel or walking her two dogs.