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Ad Sidera -- poetry by Ella Wang

In the winter of my life

you used to wrap me in your best

silks and sing to me until I saw stars.

The backyard was our sanctuary

of floating bubble-lights

and makeshift tents,

where we would play survival-time

until our knees bruised blue

and our lashes grew frost.


One night, we stayed out past bedtime

to linger beneath the full moon,

which glowed white as a saint

as we knelt down together.

Turning to me, you asked

if I believed in God,

in the marble staircase

leading ad sidera.


I said nothing but took your hand,

your pulsing wrist,

as if there was no place I’d rather be

than next to you,

as if the big sky with its blue-eyed angels

could not mean more than you.


Quietly, we dug holes into the snow

and buried ourselves, graves touching.

In the darkness I thought I saw paradise

between the white gates of your teeth.



 

Ella Wang is a high school writer living in New York City. When she is not reading or writing, she can be found listening to Phoebe Bridgers and daydreaming. At school, Ella is on the editing staff of Philomel, a student-run literary magazine.


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