Founded in the fall of 1991, Laurel Moon is Brandeis' oldest, national literary publication. Each issue we publish features original work from undergraduate students.
across the lake, i see you—
the airy chasm between grows deeper than
the pit of my stomach feels and
i yell into it to really measure the gravity
of the cavity, echoes spinning endlessly before
sinking beyond its walls
i run my fingers along each carved shape, silently
wondering when it all scarred, forgetting why
they even exist. but in one moment, it returns all at once
and i’ve half a mind to release the gates, let water
drift over the limits and remember itself
before it all. before the drought, before i skipped
too far across the fault and tripped on yesterday
but after today
it’s a new day and i’m holding onto a wilted dream
it’s a new day and i’m trying not to shatter
it’s a new day and i’m torn on my place in the chasm but
across the lake, i see you—
i built a bridge out of the scraps,
teetering on a line that threatens to
snap under me, crumble in a familiar way
but today, i straddle that boundary instead
waist-deep, torso suspended in time
wading my way to you
Anne Liu is an undergraduate student at Brandeis University studying health, music, and computer science. She writes as a hobby and it's one of her favorite modes of escape from the hectic world. When she's not writing, you'll probably find her practicing violin in the music hall.