Staceyann Chin

Under the Flutter of My Chest...

...you slip soft
into the artery of memory

my uncle was blessed thrice

with girls
three teenagers twirling yen for a father
attempting to not forget

to me
you are death and life engraved
brilliant on the bark of ambition

word of the day

cosset
me tendrils and tender strands of night
learn the smaller parts of an uncomforting past

confess the dark
the damp
the dangerous secrets we hold

between morning and days of rain
you make
shiftless
seem sublime

afternoons and mornings
lazing

just because
when it rains we wish to stay inside

tumbling the static connections
firm

though far away
you were fluttering firm beneath me

chest and artery
filled with the contradictions

my mother was unreachable today
of all days

life moves steady
along

river and moon
tidal

weave me sand and water
wash me winter

wisps of recollections
a desk

an orchid
a child yearned for

you are my Jamaica
hibiscus blooming
center
nectar suckled slime and sugar

everything about you
paints exquisite murals of misunderstood
communities

you
build bricks of splintered moments
constructing walls of teeth and bruises lasting

days and days
the altitude made me blush
blood and awareness

weak as I am
tears plum and pretty
for you
for me I am beautiful today

flap me flagging under the years
the tugging of old ways

we have loved even the worst
of each other

steady
like unexpected phonecalls recieved on the tiled frigidity
of bathroom floors

I am a whore for women who feel
as hard as you fuck
me oceans removed

wanton and remembering
my grandmother
my mother

the years move brutal through a path of thorny forgiveness
the days stretch
unending before me pleasured

and poised on the pretty precipice
all my parts plummeting through all the things I dare not speak

of
windows
opportunities

Madrid is only one city
we have yet to splay each other in

for the flurry of all things
considered

I am stretched capital under the flat
of you

arms raised overhead in gratitude
for all the tragedies we have survived

in the spirit of hearts who share histories,
Staceyann

Posted by staceyann at May 8, 2005 09:07 PM