AT THE CIRCUS
The coats of the tigers were the hue of the flames of waking stars and slashed by the black of enclosing void. By chance all the cats noticed at once how alone the man in the ring with them was. How his hand shook to hold the whip. The audience stopped their cheering, stopped their vacant laughter, stopped until the tamer’s body was opened up and they could see it. No one left the tent or looked away until they knew for sure that there is fire and there is black also, on the inside of a man.
We found Aimee Seu’s work to be very compelling and she simply wrote her bio as: “I am twenty and from Philadelphia, PA.”