0 6 A u g u s t 2 0 2 5

Afterglow

a Poem by soma

the stars are
leaving me behind—
snuffed out like
cigarettes.

it’s a quarter
past midnight,
and I’m driving,
street lamps in
the rear view.

the earth sleeps,
and there’s a sigh
where the sea
feels the sky.

a color, a name,
a face in your chest—
I was just a ghost,
no imprint, no weight,
no afterglow.