top of page

Death's Bride


I first kissed Death on a water slide. My sister

met him when she was a heartbeat,

shadowy shape in our memories where a child

might have grown. His specter

hangs over dinner tables set by ghosts, hands ruffling

sheets of hospital beds and plucking souls

like popcorn from scenes awash with red.

I was never afraid of him though,

not when I was young.

I stood outside in pouring rain

with skies flashing white and beasts rumbling

in the clouds, jumped from the tallest trees

to land flat on my back in the wood chips, dodged cars

in neighborhood streets, close

enough to scratch the metal fenders

as the wheels screeched by. I was most alive

when I walked by his side.

He is the only one who will never

leave me, a life-long flirtation,

my final husband: this bane of kings,

the last refuge of scoundrels.

I will meet him when I am tired and worn.

Let him come to me in a star-studded palanquin

and close my eyes to the velvet night.

Mira Jiang is a high school senior from Coppell, Texas. Her work has been published by or is forthcoming in publications such as Flash Fiction Online, Paper Lanterns, and Hobart and recognized by the L. Ron Hubbard Writers of the Future Contest and the Geek Partnership Society. She can often be found reading in trees or dancing in empty studio rooms.

bottom of page