Poetry at Sangam



WHAT STARS EXPLODE by Ellen Kombiyil

I was obligated to continue.
The tiny alveoli
of my lungs burst
into a galaxy of suns.

There was a release of energy.
I floated in the space between cells
like dust, suspended
in the anti-shape of my room.

What skin sheds and what stars explode
reflect light that’s traveled a continuum
of miles to be translated into
the language of eyes.

(Originally appeared in The Pedestal Magazine)