The driver reeks of coffee grains
and bad decisions
Suicide rates
are up in Reykjavik, he exhales,
We’re here
Gulfoss or the Golden Waterfall
second largest in the world
or Europe
hisses at me from the taxi door
felt tips stain my face
not covered by layers of water resistance
she told me about drowned
women in Thingvadelit
how they were falsely romanticized
she saw the light dance off the ocean
from an unconfined oil spill
Climbing down through molten rock
whispers echo
I slip
my shoes a modern inconvenience
the rigged edges trail
there isn’t more than a thin
string separating my self and the abyss
still hissing
splattering on my lungs
I wish I were made of whalebone
smooth and impermeable
like black rocks spread
across the ground
on smooth edges
she was an oenophile
she warned me of jade moss
covering holes in the hollow rock
that used to carry life through
its veins but since
it’s only keeping up appearances
I see her face in the mist
my Jesus on toast
the second largest waterfall
spits at me
I could almost hear it laugh
– Sara Karim
Astana, Kazakhstan
My name is Sara Karim and I am a psychology student at Southern New Hampshire University. I have previously published my work in The Underground (forthcoming), Blue Monday Review, Madras Mag, Teen Ink, and the American Aesthetic. I am deeply inspired by the human reflection of the natural world.