The Spaces Between Us

You and I are two sides of the same coin,
Separated only by a sliver of silver
Yet somehow never fated to meet.

I cannot look you in the eye,
Nor can I watch your retreating back,
But I can hold you through whispers —
Our hips bracketing our love,
Our legs a facsimile of parallel lines.

And when I reach out with trembling fingertips
To brush a lock back from your temple,
I’m met with the uncertain resistance of
touch-hungry deprivation.

And when I utter your name softly
Like a prayer, a secret confession of my soul,
It demands a pilgrimage of tongues and
a thousand silent deaths.

Perhaps we are destined to live in absolutes,
Forever contained within the pockets of our own making,
Or perhaps we may someday break forth and
Join in the unabashed comfort of an embrace.

Until then, we remain in our curious dance,
Drifting in our lovers’ limbo and
Holding onto the ghosts of each other

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Sol Kim Cowell is a transmasc Korean writer and local café regular. His work seeks to embolden the whispers of the subconscious and to confront the ghosts of the past, with a view to tell stories that resonate across borders. At his doljanchi, he picked up the pencil, and he hasn't put it down since. He can be found on Twitter at @solkimchi.
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