By Sean Wang

The wind curls around my feet like sand. Stars don’t whisper in the heat of summer, only the waves do. Dark, dark water and your eyes, the deep ether. I place my mat at the edge of the beach, right where the sea draws away from the land like a bride. Every night, like I promised you, I will wait right here because we cannot share a home. Every morning, when the dawn creaks across the fog, I will wake in a haze. And you will kiss me once and flow back with the tide. Every time, I notice the scars on your tail, the long drawn claws of men who through the night are locked in a dance of flesh, who never leave the sea, who never break away. Their widows don’t wait at the docks anymore. The price of your love they pay on my behalf.

Sean Wang is based in Singapore where he writes for the Singapore Film Society and edits for Outlander Magazine, Bitter Fruit Review and Project Limitless. When he’s not writing on his notes app, you can find him at a gallery or trying to get his film camera to work