WordTapestry

achilles, achilles why do you scream?  as the crowd turns away  with deaf ears,  and the one who promised is gone-- you let red eyes feast on  what remains of the body,  his blood  anointing your lips like nectar  from the boyish summers war left behind.  achilles, achilles,  why do you cry?  the rot in your heart  has crept like moss over stones,  from heart to ankle-- and with bruised hands, you rouse their bodies,  scattering the flies who now grovel for your flesh instead. achilles, achilles, tell me, swift-footed,  without your bronze shell,  as you look  from the tender grave  to the man  whose feet you pierced, can you still discern beloved from foe--      or their faces,  dirt-streaked and beaten,  from your own?

anthill your words like ants-- they swarm the screen,  take heart,  you got this,  don't worry, please! what a  state-of-the-art  comfort you are,  so many   squashed fireflies blinking on and off,  smudging  my irises with  fluorescent light. even as your text bubble  blinks and fades,  the little black letters with their  inquisitive antennae  march hup-two-three-four into my pores.  pitter-patter  footsteps  down  my tongue,  they steal  cold crumbs from between my  teeth,   wearing holes into once-ivory bone. where are you now? they crawl for my  eyes,  wanting more space, more heart that  I don't have-- so many that  I cannot speak-- imagining the horror  coloring your gentle face if I puncture  their skin,  soft as blackberries.  what am I saying?  I have forgotten.  I wanted to tell you something more but they ar...

yakult eyes drooping,  I press  my cheek  against  the  smudged  car window, the chatter  of  āyí 's ¹ a lullaby to sleepy ears. percussion for  my melody,  rain drums the half-baked streets,  washing away  our  trek to the  kingdom-- middle-of-nowhere, left behind: a world of wilted greens strewn  over cracked tiles,  white at birth  but gritty now-- the  dirt  beneath our fingernails. durian candies,  lychee jellies,  egg tarts like  melted yellow suns tease my  twitching rabbit's nose; how I want to paint my skin in all the flavors,  smear the oils of  crispy duck skin and   fèng zhuǎ  ² on my mouth,  as proudly as mother wears her red lipstick. but for now  we drive on the I-95,  and in plastic bags  our off-brand home  awaits,  steaming,  for guilty teeth to indulge.  _______________________________ ¹ Aunties ...

keychain on your bag  i swing,  left           right left            right  as you march forward  resolutely.       left          right left          right won't you look back just once? left        right left        right bouncing  ponytail thrown over your shoulder.  left          right  left          right hand loose with no one to hold. left           right  left            right look both ways,  please-- before you go.

it's 11:11, make a wish pleasepleaseplease the cravings say.  I want brownies and  favor and sweetness  and grades,  chocolates and  check-marks  like so many insects,  their sharp-needle legs poking my skin. pleasepleaseplease I echo to the clock.  give me everything, though it won't ever be enough.  just no more red marks on pages,  no red eyes when I wake up.  the cravings scream, so I'll talk  until my jaw aches, devour until my stomach is distended-- the waistband of  my discount jeans  biting deep.  pleasepleaseplease I'll smile with eyes unfocused, because if I believe enough,  this reddening body doesn't stand for error  or clothing on sale-- it's the flush  of happy faces,  of dainty lips painted. pleasepleaseplease  won't you give in?

hunger the table  with its crippled legs wobbles this way  and that  with each  hand grabbing,  each spoon  scraping across  dirtied porcelain fields. we are quiet, lips glued shut with the pretense of chewing.  but my napkin  is smeared,  my tongue aching-- all this food,  and I'm still hungry.

hangnails peeling myself  apart like an onion-- is there anything more  to find beneath this tender flesh? all I can see  is reddening  skin,  yellow fat,  muscle pulled taut-- I can't breathe, but maybe  if I tug hard enough, I'll unravel, smaller smaller smaller until  something like myself is revealed.  but so far, I am nothing  but coppery bone,       my skull bare  with an  undying smile.

tootsie roll club when I remember you,  I think of  the both of us huddled beneath the dining room table,  between us  those sticky candies packed in an old cookie tin,  stuck together  since who knows when. us laughing children,  brought together by the crinkling of wrappers,  by little secrets passed from lip to ear.  my wrinkled nose, because I hated  those long-expired candies  and the prying eyes of family,  their plastic sweetness  smothering my tongue. But you smiled  so widely  with chocolate staining your teeth rot-brown and how could I not do the same?