by Aria Shum
all those years you spent
watching your life pass by from the attic,
wondering when it would start
breathing again.
When it would start
wanting again.
If happiness would
show up at the door like it used to,
perhaps disguised in a hat or a coat or
the face of somebody you used to know.
In a dream, you wake up to the sound of
coffee brewing in the kitchen, & the lawn
getting mowed in the backyard.
In this dream, the mornings are
never lonely. Something always lets itself in
& finds its way into the living room & onto the couch,
& in this dream, you want something beautiful.
You want love or a revelation,
& in this dream, you can in fact
recognize its face. But dreaming
is one thing & wanting
is another. Knowing
is futile, yet sadness
is guaranteed, & in the end, what
is certainty besides an old joke
that everyone laughs at until it’s
their turn to knock.
The sky past midnight
is a darkness full of wanting.
The window past midnight
is an understanding.
In the morning, the sun
asks the window if it can come in.
It asked nicely, so let it—
then wake up slowly. Make your bed. Brew
the coffee. The birdsong is asking, too,
& if you can hear it, unlock
the door & listen. Listen
closely. There is someone
knocking. Can’t you hear
the knocking? There is someone
waiting for you. Go on.
Open the door.

Chinoiserie Dream
by Chelsea Tikotsky
Aria Shum is a poet and prose-writer from Chicago, Illinois. She is currently studying violin at the San Francisco Conservatory of Music. Her writing is published in After Hours, Eunoia Review, and more. Outside of music and writing, she enjoys exploring rooftops and talking to strangers.
Chelsea Tikotsky is an abstract artist based in the San Francisco Bay Area. A graduate of SFSU, she studied abroad in Florence, Italy. Working primarily in oils and watercolors, her work captures nature’s fleeting magic and nostalgic moments. She won a Juror’s Award at the 2024 PBS KVIE Art Auction.