Drawn by James Champion
Edited by Ruquayya Sajjida
Death. That sorry star.
I will not have it
tonight.
Bright as it is,
It does not lure me,
I can sit in an unlit hotel room
with a suitcase full
of pears and spider webs,
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humming the same song.
Tirelessly.
Tirelessly.
A tiny ornament
hunt, turning
and sparkling
in my skull.
Like a circle
drawn in the sand,
There’s no touching it.
James Champion (he/him/his) is from Whitehall, Michigan. He graduated from Central Michigan University with an MA in Creative Writing in 2019. He currently works as a cashier at a home improvement store. He likes skiing, walking, travelling. In other words, he is frightened of stillness. However, he is also enthralled by it. This balance might well be an accurate summation of his writing.
