Poetry by Ashely Adams
Hawking Radiation
Here we are at the end of the universe where even apocalypse unravels, the light of a scythe cutting away its own existence. Nobody told us what comes after the kingdom, to be free of the word spiraled into our foreheads. The gates rusted, the last sound their screech, their yawn. We’ll build a new god in the emptiness left behind. |
Neutrino
To catch a ghost: Bury your eyes in caves. Weigh down water with the bones of cracked suns, quick, before they slip through crust, the clouds. Trace helium tap-dance on your subtle mirrors. Ask the spirits how to haunt golden spirals, the spaces between our smallest cores. |
Ashely Adams is an MFA candidate in nonfiction at the University of South Florida. Her work has appeared in Flyway, Heavy Feather Review, Fourth River, Anthropoid, Permafrost and others. She has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and was selected as Best in Show for the Antioch Writers Workshop Fiction Fellowship contest.
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