to shining see

we are statues, shelved
in the halls of memory.

we are just as we
left us, figures and

figments of our hearts,
oxidized from disuse.

but what of the love?
what if we touch?

what if we reach
beyond our means,

beyond our marble arms
with rusting iron veins?

things left behind shine
given time and a hand.

it’s reciprocal, this
physical exchange,

a give-and-take of
residue, resplendent.

how wondrous to love.
how lustrous to touch,

to polish one another’s
stone so we both glow.

only then can we see
ourselves, reflected.


Isaura Ren is an aspiring writer and poet from the Bay Area. She just got here. Her debut piece is forthcoming in Sea Foam Mag