November 1, 2017 orangeq2017


My love, we live here
a sphere inside a sphere
inside a sphere
inside a sphere we call
the universe. Love,
let me love you
the way a planet teaches,
dearer and dearer
the sun. Let all
connection cease
but the graveness
of our orbit. But let
some happiness
reach us.
(What else to call heaven
but the absence of atmosphere?)
And when the sweetness
of that possible world
makes this one seem
a little too near, my love,
let us not grieve what
may have been there,
or here.


Victoria Le received her poetic education from the University of Michigan and Brown University, where she earned her MFA. She is interested in the ways empiricism and revelation interact with manifested life. Her poems and translations have appeared in publications such as White Whale Review and Transference. She is currently raising a son, a husband, and three cats in Tallahassee, Florida, where she teaches writing to inmates.


For more Victoria Le poems published in Orange Quarterly:




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