A breath that smelt like the sea flooded the room.
The room was not a room for having no walls.
The morning was all fog it was dusk.
Electric hands, sandy blizzard-cold hands came out of nowhere
and they seemed to know instantly where the sorrow was,
which was also the place of the heartbeat.A touch could swallow the sorrow but would not
since the sorrow was screaming.If only the sorrow talked instead all would be fine.
Sometimes touch was useless apposite to say it was an attack.
“Is there no hurt in your body?”
“There is a dream in my body.”
I Came from Planet Pluto by B.B.P. Hosmillo | Poetry Reed Diffuser Set
B.B.P. Hosmillo is a poet, editor, curator, and educator. Author of poetry books Breed Me: a sentence without a subject (AJAR Press. 2016) and A Form of Torture (UST Publishing House, 2026), their writings have been translated into Vietnamese and Korean, and have appeared in numerous publications including The Oxonian Review, The Cincinnati Review, Cream City Review, Journal of Postcolonial Writing, and Tupelo Quarterly. They have received fellowships from The Japan Foundation in Tokyo, Asia Research Institute of the National University of Singapore, and the Korean Foundation for International Cultural Exchange. In 2019, they were awarded the distinction of “Honorary Mayor” for their contributions to the study and promotion of intangible cultural heritage by the city administration of Jeonju, Republic of Korea.
