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.

You walked into class two minutes late.

I noticed immediately; you were freshly shaved.

From the top of your sideburns all the way down. You had a baby face.

You looked the same as the day we met, back in the sixth grade, when we were full of optimism.

i have never loved another in the way i have found myself to love you.

i have loved you the way the sun loves the dandelions

and the way the tides love the moon.

i simply cannot imagine a world where we didn’t save one another.

The cold gross floors

Stomp, stomp, stomp

Black tiny spaces

In shoes that stink

Im confined for hours upon hours

The rigid concrete tears holes in me

get lost in the bed sheets

The first time someone called me fat was in the 1st grade.

I have always been chubby, and I knew it.

Moreover, people around me never let me forget it.

The hollow shadow of my figure beckoned my insecurities.

My reflection swallows round my eyes like twisted hair beads and pink oil

while the mirror leaks a frightening truth

that I go mad to.

I hold the wishing in my fingers

drenched in castor, tea tree, and peppermint

my scalp only blooms red

What is a body but a cardboard box

smoothed over with wrapping paper?

A shiny exterior that beckons eager eyes,

and a sheen spiral of store-bought ribbon.

she rocks on a satin sea

her crossbow jawline aimed upward

trained on the sun.

she shoots, trying to make

the sun sink to her,

make it fall

in love with her.

there’s a galaxy, all ink and stars, that spins below your collarbone, 

and i can’t help but wonder who drew it:

did they see you as i see you? did they mean it to remind me

of the truth that other hands have gone where mine just dream they’ve been?

The blood drips down my thighs in fighting harmonies.

Disagreeing on the weight in which to debilitate me, its desire to hurt me.

My body clenches, a shooting pain transforms me.

Demanding to immobilize me.

she could’ve found

anyone, I know, the boys

who promised her better in the

beginning would be

baffled if they

knew because she

didn’t choose

anyone (she chose me)

It wasn’t until I

could feel the wind

kissing my hand,

arm hanging out of

your old rusty van

that I realized that

I have a purpose

even if that purpose is purely

letting other people know

that sometimes

I.

If we could be quiet in the small spaces,

maybe they would make excuses for us.

Our bodies, forgiven only once in a while.

We look in the mirror, see dualities of ourselves

and ask them to break. I like the glass between us.

i have my father’s temper, my father’s eyes.

i keep my bloody birthrights in a clear glass jar.

all the things i’ve laid claim to with my mother’s fingers;

long, pale, five on each hand, like real people have.

I rub ice cubes on my face in the morning

when it is swollen from soy sauce

or bad dreams or no sleep. The water beneath

my skin is thick like jelly, yellow & responsive

to touch. I lose track of the bones. I want the

It’s one year later & I still feel you on my shoulders,

breathing vulnerability onto my tender neck.

Two bodies wrapped in desire,

like silver paper, on Christmas.

We breathe each other & call it air.

You say survival, I say

  how everything had a name in the tender white light

To go outside I don a mask / the size of a human heart. / It’s become the law now. A turn in the wind / brings back Beijing: snow of pollen adrift, radioactive-yellow / cremation of God. In short, what you get / when too many boys love to burn.

After Jericho Brown

Like a good fisherman, I read the water.

I can’t afford to miss a ripple in the current.

            Past and future form ripples in the current,

After 《木兰辞》, first transcribed ca. 500 CE

translate: to carry from one state to another, as Enoch was translated, that is, carried to heaven without dying [1]

crest of my shoulder

fold of my thigh

my right collarbone

is stickier than my left

heather grey shirt

glommed to the small of my back

the armpits

always the armpits

advertising to all

“heat was here”

Bony fingers whipping, winding, wrinkling ‘cross my scalp

Heat near ears - don’t do it - yep, she’s scalded me

“Girl, don’t wail like that!” Popped with comb

Wince and whine, smile inside - aunties like this are rare

I stop some where waiting for you…. Yet you pretend I have gone!

I’ve scattered my ellipses like breadcrumbs in a public park.

It is 7:32 p.m.… I take refuge in your neck, my ear pressed close to your apple,

Back when I yearn to scrape you clean of seeds.