Erased

Artwork by Jennis Li Cheng Tien

Do you believe in corporeal love?

I ask as you rhyme and feign

appreciation for those you’ve crossed

in love or pain.

 

Whether built from rebellion or rushed affection

You swear to me blindly

There’s a spark, a connection.

 

But you’ve never found your place

in the barriers, restraints

That torment and harrow

until you’re soon erased.

 

A societal spirit that falls

for false elation in a worn out play

where desire is shunted, loyalty praised.

 

What freedom to float with you

amidst that modern plain

where names are not marred

in a celestial vein.

 

Where love is captured,

breathed in and soared.

Rushed between every crevice

unleashed, enjoyed.

 

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Eight Years

Year One

Rules:

(1) Don’t touch my face or

(2) Watch me shower or

(3) Slap my ass in public or

(4) Open pickle jars for me or

(5) Wake me up before I’m ready or

(6) Let me oversleep or

(7) Say anything about working out or

(8) Buy me flowers when you know I like plants or

(9) Open doors for me or

(10) Tell me not to cry.

DO YOU UNDERSTAND? 

I don’t like tree bark or pomegranate seeds or when roots cling to plants that are already dead.

DO YOU UNDERSTAND? 

I can’t think about space. DON’T MAKE ME. There are too many little parts in one picture; too many small things swirling together. Dark Matter. Gas. How did you even find me?

I DON’T UNDERSTAND.

I like birds because they are bovine. You are the only one who knows that. They are not feeble or angelic! Eight hollowed bones in each wing and they spend all day nesting. MORONS.

NO ONE ELSE UNDERSTANDS. 

Year Eight (365 days times 8 plus 2 leap years and 3 hours)

Rules:

(1) Never leave me.

DO YOU UNDERSTAND? 

You are my star; my nested bird in chaos.

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