I want to paint you with rainwater:
your window, smoke over slick avenues.
The first time I thought you beautiful,
your lashes blonde lamplight.
The velocity with which I fell for you
frightened me, which is why
this is a postcard, not a photograph
of an American ravine,
its loneliness in a rectangle so exact
even a shadow is pained
by turning away from the flash.
Emily Jungmin Yoon is a Korean-Canadian poet-in-training. Previous honors she has received for poetry include the International Merit Award from the Atlanta Review, 1st place in the Iris N. Spencer Poetry Contest, and publication in the Apiary’s online magazine. She likes eating frozen yogurt, translating Korean poems, and recycling. She received her BA at the University of Pennsylvania and is currently an MFA candidate at New York University.