October 2, 2017

All at once, the sun imploded and the oceans drowned in themselves and the world spun
backwards and nothing was the same. My heart began skipping beats and the chambers whispered
amongst themselves about how the moon had abandoned the stars, and I could only
press my ear to the wall with the hope of catching something. Maybe the dust of a secret or the
scent of a good night or a “goodnight.” Something. I only hoped for something.


Madison Kalia is a senior at Delta State University where she spends a great deal of time studying poetry and Sally Hemings. When she isn’t writing poetry (or doing homework), she enjoys finding new series to watch on Netflix and listening to Janet Jackson or Jaden Smith. She is the editor for Crepe & Penn (Twitter: @crepeandpenn) and loves reading and supporting other artists’ work. She can be found on Twitter @MadisonKalia.

Banner Image by Robert Frede Kenter @frede_kenter

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