The Opiate, Summer Vol. 14
STUDY ABROAD, TRAVEL LIGHT, BREATHE LIGHT Amy Poague I come from the real Northern Lights. I come from a mythological lightbulb. I study abroad in the northernmost lights in the fall, most nights. I fall into-out-of-love whilst studying abroad in the northernmost lights in the fall, most nights, suddenly aglow right next to love, suddenly bulbous and light-lit. Philosophy lives to be studied in tantalizing approximate proximity to the aurora borealis for hours upon hours, alight in anticipation of the Fall. Most nights: lit by incandescent soft whites, my innocence is suddenly mythological. Intent as an accelerating electron, light slips and falls continuously to always arrive. In free-fall most nights arrive forever as auroral forms, having studied too hard while breathing too fast while gallivanting outside all night in the Northern Lights. Aurora broke, will break, like a broken, heaving, lovelorn bulb. My aurora-philosophy will break, was already broken
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when I arrived forever to lay down my suitcase full of, forged of broken glass, merged aura, disarmed aurora.
