oriental melodrama

fishnets clutched on me tightly as i
stood stiff in the middle of Hudson
river, like a deep-sea anglerfish squished by
daylight: bloated, exploding. while dancing,
you pressed your fingers into my mouth
like preventing a balloon from deflation.

Salope. your curling smile, a remark
that you impinge upon my throat and
it struck me bright vermillion.
it’s only that i could not understand
you at all. and so you grin and say:
espèce de salope. a lewd body of

wind flushed through us, in between
our faces, as i try to see through you across
the fogging hatchdoor of a malfunctioning
submarine, which sinks deeper every
time you spit out a word that rams the ground.
Salope/it falls/Salope/an inch further

as you trade the air we breathe with
this never-ending game of pickleball
a thread of poetry churned in between
my teeth. I pulled the string out (like floss)
it went on and on and on and weaved
a parchment around my palm: red, indigo colors –

a list of obituaries, rolling over, folding
into a joint – see how it is still salvageable
before we implode? you leaned over and lit it
and we smoke those obscure lines written
by dead Chinese men: miao cang hai zhi yi su
that we were but a grain of millet or mayflies

drifting in deep waters. when I started to
love you in New York City, a gill zipped open
my cheek. would it be fair if you remember
the twist on my spine, every vein, the welt enclosing
around it and still not remember my name?
you took another hit & another.

and it was worth it, after all,
after your coughs, frantic coughs,
clanking porcelain, fluctuating dreams,
after some little tricks I played in crafting,
that you, high on characters incomprehensible
now speak in a parasitic tongue. you

look at me dead in the eyes with your tongue
tied, half-swallowed, a gill taking its rupture:
after all, how i wished to scream because
there was such flight in my chest and
with every (AH) gust of breath out of
your blazing high we get to float up

so much that i could almost repenetrate
the surface of Hudson river and breathe
again!


Posted

in

,

by

Tags:

Comments

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *