On distance by Rae Rozman

Did you know, I tell you over the phone,

that sunflowers turn their faces to the sky

they track the sun in its constant, lazy arc

stretching, turning, growing

A marvelous arithmetic, Audre called this

like we can measure space in algebraic reasoning

well not space

but the feeling of it

And I’d like to write the equation

that would redefine where I am in relation to you

to somehow quantify the molecules of horizon to satellite

in an emotion

If it had a color, it would be saffron, you’d say,

looking up at something that no one else could see,

rare and exquisite and painful

at once

Light is both a particle and a wave

but believe me, it is also a distance:

just ask the sunflowers

when they’re straining to reach through the clouds.

Rae Rozman is a femme dyke who works as a school counselor in Austin, Texas. Her poetry often explores themes of queer love (romantic and platonic), loss, and education. You can find her on Instagram @mistress_of_mnemosyne sharing poems, book reviews, and pictures of her two adorable rescue bunnies.