An interconnected family of supernovas burning bright in the night sky: take a moment, reach out—join us.
Night went by like nothing
As it descended that night it seemed
more and more to be made of silver,
and flat. Empty branches divided
the sky into shards and edges and
the moon might have been the god
of broken glass. But our eyes were full
of fire we made. Its embers rose
like the crumbs of us that tend to
eddy unseen behind our souls. Then,
later, it was as dark as that room
you're never going into even
if you unlatched the door. A dark that
took all our words before they even
reached our throats. And we slept, quiet
and rough as salt at the bottom of a bowl.
About the Author
Lee Potts is the author of the chapbook And Drought Will Follow (Frosted Fire Press) and poetry editor at Barren Magazine. His work has appeared in Rust + Moth, Whale Road Review, UCity Review, Parentheses Journal, Firmament, Moist Poetry Journal, and elsewhere. He lives just outside of Philadelphia with his wife and the last kid still at home. You can find him on Twitter @LeePottsPoet.