The humidity felt familiar,
Like returning to a faraway dream
They put me up in a nice room
With glossy floors and big windows
I wait there next to grey clouds
A nurse shaves my chest
Making tiny cuts on my skin
Baby hairs float in soapy water
I wipe my legs and she wipes my back
Scrubbing the places I can’t reach
I feel like I’m going to a ball
Remembering a promise,
I tell the sky a secret
Nightfall fills the room with blue
In the bright hallway
A message flashes by:
Nothing matters more than this Day
I repeat this like a mantra
Not wanting to admit
I’m a little bit afraid
I cried and cried like a baby
Waking up for the first time
Hours pass by the rhythm
Of my blood pressure monitor
My neighbors snore softly
Tubes emerge in four directions
Small rivers carrying the past
They drain my pain and worries
Loneliness sits for a bit
It’s just another visitor
Little ants keep me company
Today the sky is light blue
The sunshine is blinding
And I listen to music again
Who will join me in this new life?
It may be autumn now
But my spring has just arrived
The nurse unwraps my bandages
She calls me beautiful
I think so, too
桂花开了
风一吹有
蜜糖的味道
我想没必要
比云走得快
Osmanthus is blooming
and when the wind blows
the air smells sweet like honey
I think there’s no need to move
faster than the clouds
你是男还是女
我回答：
我两个都是
我一个也不是
Are you a boy or girl
I replied:
I am both
I am neither
In a chunk of steel and aluminum
we hurtle towards the future at 95 miles an hour
Today the distant horizon is obscured in fog
and last night it was barely visible in the darkness
Light pollution and mountain shadows
vaguely divide asphalt and sky
Our bodies still
we move forward
as if in a trance
Until a sudden torrential downpour blurs the windshield
like an impressionist painting
We clench the steering wheel with sweaty palms
and take cover in the parking lot of this Cracker Barrel.
The morning air smells nostalgic and calm
Clouds upon clouds part to reveal a vast blue sky
So perfect blue I would buy it as an oil paint pigment
and the path forward is crystal clear
The present is full of markers of the past:
we breeze through skid marks on the highway,
passing through a tornado’s wake
as the radio announces the number of lives lost
Under these clouds I feel small
and endless Jesus billboards corroborate my theory
that we were put here by a giant hand
I find myself satisfied with the craftsmanship
The attention to detail here is immaculate.
On the drive back to the city, I saw the moon again. It dropped under the skyline and overpasses as I sped home at 90 miles an hour. It looked closer, brighter, I could make out whispers of valleys and craters on its surface, and as we traced the curvatures of the highway it swayed across the driver’s side window, across the windshield, then up above our heads out of view.
You were asleep next to me. Every so often, an orange glow from passing streetlights would cast shadows across your face. I kept turning to look at you, desperate to remember and remember and remember this feeling of Now, and in doing so, almost swerved us into a traffic barrier. Just then your hand reached towards mine, so I spent the rest of the drive with one hand on the wheel and holding yours with the other.
winter in Hangzhou. We were late and droplets slid like oil down the black limousine. My uncle’s bride had a small face and her name was Swallow, like the bird. She was nice enough. In the bathroom, she asked me to button up her dress to cover a tattoo on the back of her neck.
Today is very special, she said.
I want to look perfect.
I met her gaze in the mirror and smiled.
The grand banquet hall was gilded in red velvet and gold. A haze hung over the room and kids guzzled down two-liter bottles of Sprite with both hands. As a bridesmaid, I served cigarettes on a platter to old men and didn’t complain. The brand of cigarettes they have at Chinese weddings is called Double Happiness and comes in red packages. After the Communists won the war, the company was nationalized and now my uncle’s happiness is owned by the state too.
They must have been playing love songs over the speakers but in my memory all I hear is distorted elevator music.
I’m so happy with the world in my arms. Do you know why?
My mom gets up from her seat and leaves the room.
Because you’re my whole world.
The guests love these empty vows, some are even tearing up. Seeing my chance, I slipped a stick of happiness into the pocket of my parka and smoked my first cigarette outside by the dumpster.
That was five years ago. Today the train moves smoothly, like walking through water in a dream. Swallow sends pictures of cherry blossoms covered in ice, with words in a language I’m starting to forget. It’s snowing for the first time this winter in New York. I plunge backwards into a tunnel surrounded by strangers and watch flurries fall from the subway window.
These days, the air feels thick and it’s hard to fall asleep. I step outside and my breath turns to smoke, leaving nothing but desire in my stomach.