Love drifts like breath across a dawn-lit canvas,
shapeless until language teases it into form
like ribbon unspooling from a long-awaited gift.
Hieroglyphs that speak your name
born from the imprint of your voice
like letters
shards fallen from the carving of the Tower of Babel,
it stutters between the walls of our mouths.
No one asks the birthdate of the obvious
the moon,
the faded scent of pomegranate
drifting through twilight orchards,
a kiss sewn into the lining of an old coat.
These are the first metaphors,
trembling, incomplete.
At dawn, just shy of dewfall,
when neither vapor nor voice can bead into shape,
I press your name beneath a sfumato veil
you remain: the one trace clear through the haze.
I am an undergraduate student majoring in policy studies, currently residing in Seoul. I am fascinated by exploring new concepts and interpretations at the intersection of writing and visual art.