I watch the stars with everyone else but destroy them on my own The sky had to detonate like that so I could twist stars between my fingers, into my palms, against my skin. Now I stand underneath the fallout’s center, where I am an explanation. Debris kisses me, reflections exchange me, and everyone takes me. (But) Between where the sea nuzzles the sky, we all misbehave. Here we are centered, with closed knuckles, sharp lines, a journey sewed shut. We are where we get ourselves tangled in fishing line, feathered bait dipped just beneath the surface - the world barely skimming the top. We are wild in the way that silence is wild, and still somehow convinced that voices will be what chase us from this flood. The heavens are still smashed against my hands where they feel soft, underneath the wreckage toft and I will let their heat stain me while I sink the moon and everyone (watches). Shannon Waite Shannon Waite is a High School English and Creative Writing teacher turned Proposal Writer and Marketing Coordinator in Metro Detroit. She's currently earning her third degree, this one in Creative Writing, at Oakland University. Her fiction has appeared in PANK and is forthcoming in Oakland Arts Review.
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The Ekphrastic Review
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July 2025
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