A (scorching!) poem about alien lovers. When I first read this poem I had to immediately go lie down, it’s so good. The language is rich and redolent and gives a real sense of the texture of the world. And to pack so much story and world-building into something so small!
Ugh, this poem is funny and poignant and sad and creepy all at the same time, it’s frankly rude. Each word feels so carefully chosen and placed, crisp and clear and evocative. It so deftly conveys both a sense of the point-of-view character’s loneliness and desire to connect.
If you ever wanted to read a queer poem from the point of view of a spaceship falling through the atmosphere then this is the poem for you. The language jolts in this, and you can feel the tensions between the pull of space and the ground. It’s glorious.
This poem is a sensory joy – it starts in stillness and blooms into a tangle of chills and desires and colours and yearnings. It delicately conveys both the sense of the expanse of empty space, and the urgent intimacy of union. Plus, who doesn’t love space witches?
A queer love poem to Jupiter from one of its moons. This poem is utterly delightful. It is sweet and eager and breathtaking. I particularly love how the poem continually circles back (ha) to the theme of the lovers circling one another, the sense of closeness reaching through space, evident both in the use of language – the repeated patterns and phrasing – and in the movement of the story.