from salt and foam and scales 

steal the hearts of stone 

nacreous shells, dying husks, 

the honey-sweet flesh that once 

clung to its bones 

to die of thirst. 

little creature, we will feast 

carve you out of your hiding place 

bake you in steam 

and the corpses of hundreds 

melt in our bellies 

to keep us warm and 




18 years old

More by yejunee

  • ouroborous

    the snake is hungry 

    so the snake will eat 

    and eat it does, chewing, gnawing, 

    and will you ever notice, little thing, 

    that it is your own tail 

    you are swallowing? 


  • eschatology

    meet me at the end of the world 

    the space between firestorms and tsunamis 

    across the acid oceans 

    and here, where the rot 

    has begun to reclaim the cities at last.