Flu

Vol. 2 No. 2Poetry
Written By Vanessa Niu

Deep in winter, always Madame
Sosostris, hands paler than first light,

every reflective widow’s
blighted eye I pass as a ghost

might. The days hiding
underneath each wood plank, rats

gnawing through the piers,
beams, blind glass holding it all

together. The corridors,
waiting for the solstice to bear

spring tidings, promise that
warm winds will erase the stares—

back behind every mirror. Learning
to never ask about my future,

just as I have learned to love
with my mouth closed and words

unshuttered, love like prongs lending
another block of wood to a feeble fire.

When the snow softly beats the earth,
the woman who is known to be the wisest

in Europe whispers I love like the snow.
I pretend that she is not there

so that I may pretend that
I do not love at all.

This poem was featured in Volume 2, Issue 2. Click here to explore other pieces from this issue.

Vanessa Niu

Vanessa Y. Niu is a classical singer and writer who has lived in nearly every borough of NYC. She is the runner-up for the 2024 New York State Youth Poet Laureate, and her work has been recognized by the Kennedy Center, Teen Vogue, the Guggenheim, and NYFW.

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