Today I pulled

my grandmother’s body

from the mouth of the river,

unpeeled milkflowers and seawater

from her hair, and knelt over her

the way we bend over our own reflections:

to drink.

Nainai, ni ren shi wo me?*

True silence isn't sealed lips

it's unread texts, deleted history

it's a phone that someone never picks up

The line the dead girl's parents still pay for

even though there is no one to answer it.

the principal is adamant on thoughts

I tried on a mermaid dress the other day, and waddled two steps before stripping it off;

I saw how it snagged on my hips and clutched at my chest,

first; to detect a charlatan, check pulse.

             is it too fast? then it’s a fake.

                          body too fat? a fake.