Grace Q. Song

All my years are coming


and going. People work hard


to explain love and physics 


when everything is just theory. 


The best trains come 


to save your life. 


No matter if they’re late or early


they are always on time. 


But time, like distance, 


possesses direction


not precision. Words 


like near and far exist


in a vague shelf of space


we will never find. 


Every night I take a shower.


My fingers wrinkling


turning soft as cherries. 


I stand there until I’m calm


almost dizzy. The farthest 


from the child of my body


and I want to sleep or cry.


I love many people


who will never change. 


Headshot | Grace Q. Song


GRACE Q. SONG is a writer residing in New York City. Her poetry and fiction have been published or are forthcoming in The Boiler, The Offing, The Cincinnati Review, The Minnesota Review, Memorious, The Journal, and elsewhere. Recent works were selected for Best Microfiction, Best Small Fictions, and Best of the Net. She is the winner of the 11th annual Gigantic Sequins Poetry Contest, selected by Vi Khi Nao, and she studies English at Columbia University.