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  • Misha Liu


Updated: Sep 25, 2022

By: Misha Liu
Last Updated on: November 28, 2021
Image by: Kristina Jelic

Blinding light,

painful as it is,

alluring in its cruelness


and fragments

of a pale blue sky,

from behind

the fire

I squeeze my eyes shut,

reminded of

blue tongues,

bike wheels,

and wild laughter.

From behind my eyes,

a spot begins to grow

and then two,

and then three



clementine shades behind rose,

streaks of cobalt blue.

I can see no shapes in this amalgamation,

only ideas

and daydreams.

I can see a moth,

drawn to light,

pursuing the blaze

that she cannot touch.

breaking her own heart,

every time

she gets close.

I can see the moon,

dazzling and brilliant,

having seen




and despite it all,

she continues to glow,

ethereal and strong.

I can see the rain,

and the colours that follow,

former as beautiful as latter,

and yet,

not nearly as loved,

as if

one can exist

without the other.

I can see a pair of boots,

well-worn and well-loved,

but thrown out

after use.


And beside it, a snowglobe,

adored and marveled at,

though never truly

cared about.


I wonder

which fate

is more cruel.

So many beautiful things,

and so much pain,

and I open my eyes,

hoping to be


of their luster

only to see them once again,

gleaming and growing,

this time,

set in the center

of the flame.

Poem Description:

This poem is about those strange-looking blobs you see behind your eyes, after staring at the sun for too long. Although the topic itself may be mundane, it is elevated by use of imagery and descriptors (read: "clementine shades behind rose, streaks of cobalt blue"). The poem itself tells many stories- read it over to see if you can count every one; but in the end, we all squeeze our eyes shut to try to get rid of these swirly blobs. Of course, it doesn't work; and seemingly as punishment, they continue to grow, this time beyond our reach.

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