Issue Six Featured Poem – Anita Olivia Koster



Constructing a single crown requires time.

Time is a road acrid with gasoline,
we travelled far to understand one thing:

Love has its own gravity.

Sometimes, to erect a home, one must dismantle
the dreams of our fathers, our mothers.

Make me an exile, remake me, screw the clay—
the artist never averts their eyes—or so Kurosawa said.

Seduction, like a work of art, begins with a shadow,
if only you’d seduce me in the daylight,

the entire bedroom is a sequence of shadows,
if only my crown was not made of plastic,

let’s face it, we were foolish to believe in
building kingdoms out of bedsheets.