Aster Lit: Tesserae

Issue 15—Winter 2026

Isaiah 30:26 and Tteokguk

Matthew Chi, United States

In the winter like pa under the snow, 

I grew slowly, only able to quiver beneath the cold,

beneath the sky drawn long in the evening.

I poured myself a deep bowl, the broth always warm and lovely and 

aching. Bones of sagol boiling through the night, 

we forgot to cut the flame, but I wish it just wasn’t so cold. 

Dad was never able to say bulgogi or miyeokguk, but he

knows how to pronounce this one so he smiled and prayed.

I kept my eyes open because the moon was bright that night 

—and I think that was where it went wrong. 

The pastor always told us to close our eyes but I

didn’t—did I spoil the surprise?

Dusk shone so bright through the glass and I tried so hard to look away, but

I drank the rest of the bowl so I felt too warm. It’s quite cold today and I wish 

it just wasn’t so cold. I say I miss being a child but I don’t really, I think.

I think I miss it being warm. After dinner mom fried the left over tteok with cinnamon

and I cracked a dish carrying it to the sink and 

you said it was okay that you forgave me that it didn’t matter but I wish,

I wish you weren’t lying so I didn’t believe that lies could be so warm.

I opened my eyes and stared out towards a pale moon, I wondered

how cold it must be up there. How much further up Heaven must be

—I thought about my father’s prayer:

Dear God thank you for this day and thank you for this food and thank you for the sun and the stars and the night and the cold and the winter and the pain and the suffering and and the torture and the tears and this food and the sun and the stars and / and // and /// and—

oh God it hurts would it be okay if you forgave me just one more time because his blood pours down the cross like kimchi juice and gochujang in the evening and—

Amen. I sat quietly waiting for something to happen and opened my mouth to ask

why do lies mean so much to you but a shooting star cut across the sky

and I wished I would never learn the answer

 

Matthew Chi is a Senior at the Gilman School in Baltimore Maryland. He attended the Kenyon Young Writers Online Workshop this summer to further refine his writing. He serves as the co-Editor-in-Chief for his school's arts magazine, Paragon, which has received a First Class Distinction from NCTE in the past two years. Outside of writing, Matthew has a passion for STEM and is deeply interested in ophthalmology, space biology, and physics. "