A Long Piece of String

by Asma Mammootty
Art by Jennifer Xu
Issue: Aphelion (Spring 2016)

       A long piece of string

                                   from the lower end of a crescent moon

              hangs so long that it can wrap

          around each ray

                    of each star

                   of each

                  of the seven heavens,

                  collecting all the star pollen it can,

                  before shooting down into the poofy clouds,

                     puffing all that white fire away and wrapping the string

                               in a milky wisp of mist, with which it can slip through

                                         the moist atmosphere and into our vacuum of a city

                                                                                               -a city in which neither

                                                                                          cries nor laughs nor all

                                                                                                     too loud floats around

                                                                                           because it’s all woven under

                                                                                                 our jackets, hot air to keep us

                                                                                             warm because that little piece

                                                                 of string dropping down from eternity’s

                                                 not long enough to wrap around you and me,

                                     but through every single shining soul in

                               the seven earths, it’s running

                 to collect all the soul dust it can,

                          like a hook,



                          down your

                          hollow throat,

                          sucking away all that ice

                            that you’ve been saving for me,

                     and wrapping round your head, your

                               chest, your heart, and squeezing so hard

                                        to remind you, that whenever you feel like you’ve had

                                            enough and you start pulling down to stay down,

                                                              you’ve always got the weight of the moon

                                                                pulling you

                                                                back up

                                           to the stars

                                     and telling you

                          that even though

                                     it’s so ******                 

           and painful

         to get strung up

          in everything

                                                                                    will be alright