Poetry by Ziqr Peehu

        yooperann CC
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Self-Portrait as Falling in Love, but I’m the Big Bang
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It starts with a snap, not a whisper.
Not a “come here” but a here you are.
My whole body is a bruise of heat,
every atom screaming out of itself.
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You touch my jaw like it’s still molten,
say, this is how worlds are made,
but I’m already cracking open,
already spinning too fast to hear you.
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You hand me a bottle of wine
and call it cooling.
I laugh so hard the cork pops itself.
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We’re watching trash TV,
your head in my lap, your voice
saying something about gravity,
how it keeps the universe together,
how it keeps us here.
I say I don’t believe in it.
I say I only believe in explosions.
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I want to write your name
into the night sky, but all I have
is this stupid pen,
so I write it on my thigh instead,
say it aloud until it loses meaning.
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You throw popcorn at my face
and call it cosmic debris.
I throw it back and call it
the end of the world.
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When I look at you,
I see every star at once,
every shadow too.
You tell me that’s how love works.
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I tell you I’ve been a black hole before.
You tell me you’re not afraid of dark things.
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We fight over the radio,
your station static, mine all bass.
You let me win.
I don’t say thank you.
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When I fall apart, I do it loudly.
I let the pieces fly.
You stand there, arms wide,
catching all the sharp edges.
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You hand me coffee in the morning,
still wearing last night’s bruise of a laugh.
I ask if we’re made of stardust,
and you say yes,
but only the messy kind.
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You leave my kitchen a mess,
call it entropy.
I say, fine, I’ll clean it up
if you keep the heat alive.
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I text you: Do you believe in the multiverse?
You text back: Only if every version of me gets to love every version of you.
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When it’s quiet, you remind me
that we are still expanding.
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At the end of this, when the universe collapses,
when I’ve finally scattered into dust,
I will carry your name in my atoms.
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You, my forever noise.
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When you kiss me, it feels
like a new kind of physics--
laws I can’t name but already trust.
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You say my name and I remember
how it feels to exist.
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Do you know how the universe stays alive?
Not with explosions, but with gravity.
Something keeps holding me here.
Something keeps pulling me back.
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If I am the Big Bang,
you are the light that followed.
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At the end of all things,
when the stars cool and the sky folds inward,
I will say: I began, and I loved.
And it will be enough.

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IF YOU WANT ME, YOU BETTER MAKE ME REAL
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tell me i’m not made of glass, not some fever dream stitched into daylight. if you want me, prove i’m not just a name you hum when the room gets too quiet. hold me with your hands, bare and shaking, the way roots grip the dirt, the way wings beat against the air— a prayer to stay grounded or finally fly. kiss me hard enough to shatter the mirrors i’ve been living in. press your fingerprints into my skin until i am undeniable. if you want me, say it like thunder, say it like a hymn, say it like there’s no such thing as subtext, just the truth standing naked on your tongue. this is just like you— laughing at ghosts, sitting across from me in that diner, your coffee gone cold. your eyes—two goddamn lighthouses— still searching for the wreckage. this is just like me— shoving my heart into your coat pocket when you’re not looking, pretending it’s enough to watch you carry it without knowing it’s there. if you want me, say my name like it’s the answer to every question you’ve ever asked. say it like the door is open, like the light is still on, like this is the place you want to stay. don’t leave me guessing, don’t leave me undone. it is snowing, and i am so tired of making angels in the wrong people’s beds. let me be the warmth you don’t have to keep chasing. let me be real.

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Ziqr is in high school and getting through life— one em dash at a time. They are the designated text drafter of their friend group. Their works have appeared in places like Scholastic, Rattle, Trampset among others.