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black and white overlays of feminine faces
Zone 3 Press, the literary magazine of Austin Peay State University
Volume 40, Issue 1
Volume 40, Issue 1

On Monday Morning We Learn About Maxwell’s Equations In Class And I Can’t Understand It So Instead

  • By Abby Xiao

I split light into digestible memories, &
each shutter flaps closed: the warm orange   
dripping through our fingers, the sweetness  
of tangerines, the sun licking the inside  
of its own iris, & our undulating laughter. 
Beautiful thing, I’ve heard light bends 
for you. We learned last week that 
radiance is a series of loops dancing in
perpendicular motion. That electricity &
magnetism leap into gravity’s waiting arms.  
How can one think light speeds 
into oblivion? I know you. Maybe we don’t  
need equations for this, Maxwell. Not  
even for dark wine or the moon under  
siege. Can you hear it from the other room?   
The light. These shutters, opening.   
Our singing. Beautiful thing, 
I climb from crumb to crux 
into your silvered arms.   

About Abby Xiao

Abigail is a high school senior, poet, and writer from Ohio. Her writing has been recognized by the Scholastic Art & Writing Awards and DePaul’s Bluebook: Best American High School Writing. Formally, she has explored writing through the Kenyon Young Writers Workshops, the Virtual Iowa Young Writers’ Studio, and the Wellspring of Imagination. Informally, she loves to write about connection, love, and history.  

black and white overlays of feminine faces
Zone 3 Press, the literary magazine of Austin Peay State University
Volume 40, Issue 1
Volume 40, Issue 1

On Monday Morning We Learn About Maxwell’s Equations In Class And I Can’t Understand It So Instead

  • By Abby Xiao

I split light into digestible memories, &
each shutter flaps closed: the warm orange   
dripping through our fingers, the sweetness  
of tangerines, the sun licking the inside  
of its own iris, & our undulating laughter. 
Beautiful thing, I’ve heard light bends 
for you. We learned last week that 
radiance is a series of loops dancing in
perpendicular motion. That electricity &
magnetism leap into gravity’s waiting arms.  
How can one think light speeds 
into oblivion? I know you. Maybe we don’t  
need equations for this, Maxwell. Not  
even for dark wine or the moon under  
siege. Can you hear it from the other room?   
The light. These shutters, opening.   
Our singing. Beautiful thing, 
I climb from crumb to crux 
into your silvered arms.   

Volume 40, Issue 1
Volume 40, Issue 1

On Monday Morning We Learn About Maxwell’s Equations In Class And I Can’t Understand It So Instead

  • By Abby Xiao

I split light into digestible memories, &
each shutter flaps closed: the warm orange   
dripping through our fingers, the sweetness  
of tangerines, the sun licking the inside  
of its own iris, & our undulating laughter. 
Beautiful thing, I’ve heard light bends 
for you. We learned last week that 
radiance is a series of loops dancing in
perpendicular motion. That electricity &
magnetism leap into gravity’s waiting arms.  
How can one think light speeds 
into oblivion? I know you. Maybe we don’t  
need equations for this, Maxwell. Not  
even for dark wine or the moon under  
siege. Can you hear it from the other room?   
The light. These shutters, opening.   
Our singing. Beautiful thing, 
I climb from crumb to crux 
into your silvered arms.   

About Abby Xiao

Abigail is a high school senior, poet, and writer from Ohio. Her writing has been recognized by the Scholastic Art & Writing Awards and DePaul’s Bluebook: Best American High School Writing. Formally, she has explored writing through the Kenyon Young Writers Workshops, the Virtual Iowa Young Writers’ Studio, and the Wellspring of Imagination. Informally, she loves to write about connection, love, and history.