“Sasebo Delights” by Harman Uppal


the sealed grip of your fingers

are boastful against mine

we lift palmyra columns, shelf clouds,

deep hums

like cracks of thunder

which echo across the room

they are a preface to shades of pink and purple

i caress blown glass


like amber and round like pomegranates

splotches of sunny bisque

i rise to greet you

like plumes of coral

on the smoking lake we saw

your fingers interlocked with mine

like sasebo islands

each palm forms fists to beat breasted bone

chanting hymns you bellow with giddy sighs

all the while, mine are harpoons

sailing on ruddy whaling boats

the hooks tugging on blubber

we rock back and forth

i sweep the gorge, feeling the ridges of your side

tracing spots where my fingers would fit splayed wide

like leaves and lingering ballet on prickly hills

you’re grabbing everything you can

and I can hear the gulls

tundra geese


on nesting grounds


Harman Uppal is a struggling twenty-something Sagittarius who spent two years at a Catholic school and another seven at an all boys' private school —completely unrelated to him being queer. He's passionate about the indoors and writing things he thought no one would ever read. He can be found avoiding twitter suspension or trying to save his dying plants.

Twitter: @discoscepter