The City that Never Sleeps by Grace Zhang (16, United States)

[Trigger warning: domestic abuse]

We are walking through the city tonight, just you and me
watching stars unfurl under a blanket of ebony. 
The buildings are aglow with light: 
bodegas cramped with cheery customers and 
opera music streaming from hidden corners. At night, 
the city overflows with opportunity, drawing people 
out of their apartment buildings and into the dark. ​

---

As we walk down Times Square, the moonlight 
catches on your dimples and softens your smile. What once was
heavy hand and lashing belt has transformed into loving father
and devoted husband; you are simply one in eight billion,
reduced to a number on a textbook. 

(You are not bleeding from the knuckles nor slamming the front door
behind you, not tonight.) 

You point out the late night pizza shops brimming with 
customers on their way home from work, the 
flood of voices piling on one another in a ceaseless hum. 
If we get close enough, I can almost smell the tantalizing
blend of baked dough and olive oil. 

(If I get close enough to you, I can smell the beer on your breath, your weeks of absence pinned to the missing poster Mom put up last week.) 

The soft willow trees are dancing in the wind like 
ballerinas, shedding their almond-shaped leaves in 
soft flutters against the crosswalk. Your soft chuckles 
are barely audible against the blustering breeze. For 
a second, I wonder if it is possible to take a snapshot 
of this brief moment in time so that I can stitch it 
into the chambers of my heart; visit it time and time 
again until the memory seeps into my fibers. I want to 
have this living proof of your innocence. Prove to me 
that I am hallucinating each time you tear 
open my flesh with your bare hands. 

But for now, I simply smile and laugh at your attempted jokes, watch
as the billboard lights cast long fragmented beams into the city.
It seems I play the role of the forgetful daughter all too well.

---

Grace Zhang (she/her) is a 16-year-old high school junior from the United States. Her work has been recognized in the Scholastic Art & Writing Awards and Houston Legislative Essay Contest. She is an editor for Polyphony Lit and EIC of The Lunar Journal. Besides writing, she enjoys making new playlists on Spotify, grape hi-chews, and mystery novels