Hymn

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:

Origin

Critic

Terminus

Terminus

We forget that science is inexact. Unlike us it has
no end. Instead we must be direct. I
love you. How many times can I tell you before
the sun explodes? It’s hard not to feel like the earth,
sentimental about my past lives. Even the ones
where I hurt you seem perfect, fossilized
against the impermanence of this, everything.
It’s the thought I come back to when I imagine,
looking forward far enough, collision
of atoms. Catastrophe of cells. We have
all of forever to be separated. Why let it start
now, seeing and knowing what we do
of this world, one rock, a speck barely
hanging on to the shoulder of the universe
as it rushes toward its own exit. I

love you. How much poetry can we write
and still be perfectly inadequate.

Like objects in space we zoom past ourselves,
improbably greeting each other in the course
of moving infinitely apart.

*

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:

Origin

Hymn

Critic

Critic

I was so anxious about your
reading my poems
I was thinking of that time at
the Roethke symposium you
said you were walking
around with this
terrible case of ennui like
it was something you could catch
from sleeping with the wrong
poet and me just
wanting to tickle your ass
I was afraid you were going
to comment but you didn’t
have time to think about that
did you when you were
corroding my mouth it was perfect

*

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:

Origin

Hymn

Terminus

Origin

I have to assume we’ve already met. Maybe
it’s why I’m such an optimist. Like when I hold you
to feel my own particles returned to me. Saliva
cell. Peanut breath. The constant giving and
receding of the world moves me in its repetition.
Its reshuffling of options. The way a species sits silent
for a generation then continues in new forms.
Or stops. But I see promise in this history of bodies
hurting and eating one another. Remember
our pain, primordially, as the thing which
makes us, now, possible. Looking at you I feel
wet skin. Beard prickles. Nuisance of bones.
Parts arranged in a way that suggests
their likelihood for me.

When everybody we know dies I want
to be recombined as a new potential for loving you.
Why can’t everything we want be exactly what
we’ve always had. Nevertheless,
I trust the logic of change, know
in its predictability a kind
of bringing you back to me.

*

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:

Hymn

Critic

Terminus

Creative design from the South

Get in touch with us!