By Ocean Vuong

If I should wake & the Ark

the Ark already

gone

If there was one shivering thing

at my side

If the snow in his hair

was all that was left

of the fire

If we ran through the orchard

with our mouths

wide open

& still too small

for amen

If I nationed myself

in the shadow

of a colossal wave

If only to hold on

by opening—

by kingdom come

give me this one

eighth day

let me enter

this nearly-gone yes

the way death enters

anything fully

without a trace

Taken from Emergence Magazine