“Jeju Island (an orange lens)” by Janice Lee

The Hallabong citrus rests intertwined

in my palms, twisting within skin.

Tangy drip, orange sap dribbling

down my pinkies

A coral sunset on canvas.

Jejuseagullslacingthrough

the coarse midnight

threads of my wind-blown hair.

It is cold and I am in dizzying freefall

one foot over seaside rock

at the mercy of kimchi-scented gusts

glossed over with the exhale of fish

bobbing beneath my feet

serenity, chapped ocean waves

lapping at the coastal weed crusts,

my sneakers soaked through the soles,

longing, comfort.

It is dusk when my mother calls.

Apricot sky, bittersweet as peach jam,

taste of local market soliloquies

Dayflies flit away into

the fog dancing within the blood

tangerine horizon.

Champagne air, my washed

out jeans damp,

splayed out on the endless

black coast

The moon winks back at me.

Janice Lee is from the suburbs of Chicago, but finds herself back travelling back to her motherland in South Korea every chance she gets for visual inspiration. She spends her free time writing (obviously) and making random Spotify playlists for fun.