The Looking-Glass

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Our eyes meet,

and my heart burns itself to ash

Growing wide wings of infinite desire

and longing for the scent of her hair wafting

like an iridescent fog

through the darkened forest of my mind.


From the ShadowsFrom the shadows

Her smile of blinding star-formed happiness

and smooth ivory skin,

her mind shaping words which craft my dream

of an evening spent at the edge of the world

where the rivers of past and future meet,

merge, and flow on wards under

the company of silent stars honeysuckle soft-heavy

august air guiding our lips

together moonlit half-light tracing

the picture of our bodies pressed together

onto the canvas of youthful passions fueled

by the singular connection of a single glance bridging

all time to those willing to ignore the distance

 and leap across the void.

Having seen two strands of destiny wind

about themselves.

Dancing with the harmony of the spheres

brought together yet immune to the entropic machinations

of circumstance drawing all things apart.

Dissolution rising from within, exposed by afternoon

conversations at the site of that first meeting of passionate forms


Explosions in the sky

Explosions in the sky

now dragged by the chains of reality to contemplation and

fears too deeply-anchored to be removed by an explosion so bright,

too bright giving rise to those demons

of the past from which we can forever run

yet one look over the shoulder reveals how close they’ve become.


by  Ryan Burgess | Featuring artwork by Damianovskaia  | Featured image by Økuntakinte


Ryan Burgess

Ryan is a student of the University of Chicago. His poems have also been published in the Merrimack Review. He may be contacted at rlburgess23