minute 514 at night

by Sally Kim
Art by Rhee Kang
Issue: Aphelion (Spring 2016)

I look up to the somber heavens
and down to the damp concrete carpet
as I alone in my car.

Everything in between
is ambiguous, quiet, and humid until

You, who hides in the
morbid, dark night sky
Rips through the grumpy
pool of ashed, flat clouds

Just for a second
my eyes stare at the window
trying to cling
to the dainty, dragging droplets

It’s then
that I see your brilliant, energetic flashes
of light
dancing across your stage,
the sky

You blind me
with the radiance and strength
of your crooked beams
much like the passionate sun rays
that blaze onto the
desolate deserts of dragging dog days


The curtains close
the dancers disappear
the Sun sets
summer falls.

The skies blacken
the ground dampens
as I sit alone in my car.