in the back of a taxi,
my head out the window,
rain on my tongue,
eyes open enough to see gray concrete buildings
and the left side of beijing blurring by.
from above i was staring at the ground,
by the rosebush crying, with bruises on my chin.
just a tree and a concrete wall,
freshly rained upon dirt,
black dirt and choking up my insides.
lying on my right side,
blinking slowly at two seats in front of me,
dirty beige, ripped, and bumping drunk
in the back of a bus somewhere.
“i love you” slides off my tongue
dripping with heavy,
the lingering taste of alcohol,
my stomach empty and filled with sad,
and, i loved you suddenly after i said it.
from the earth i was staring at the sky,
a sudden sobriety, eyes open to
une année sans lumière, pitch black earth,
and blinded, i had been blindsided. then
lying on my back, in inner mongolia
i saw a shooting star.