Visual art by Shutsu Hsu

Within dewdrops I do see your green eyes,
reflections of your dilated pupils,
unevenly so. They drip from the sun
and into the mouths of the lost children.

You quench the thirst of my adolescence,
its inconsolable tendencies, the
endless cold in which dewdrops do form and
sit upon my blushing cheek. If you were

to be smashed upon cold ocean cliffs, I
would pray to be eaten by see moss, then
pressed into sentimental remnants
of sediment, and consumed by unnamed

and undiscovered creatures of the blue.
To become a dewdrop upon your cheek.