1

There is no one more vulnerable
than a lost child in the big city.
clenched lips magnify
their throbbing heartbeat.
As they anxiously look,
they meet the stranger’s gaze.

I know children need time
to expand into the abstract word

“Mature”

definition:
experienced enough to
not cause a scene.
I wonder what’s the name
for an adult equally lost?

2

I am a nomad in this city
my room is an aisle of home depot.
the plastic storage shelf, stackable storage bins,
windows lined with plastic greens,
Temporary housing plans,
And its build up of disposables
kills our Terrestrial home.
My version of thing theory is that
things made to be respected break down easily
and Disposable things are indestructible.
I don’t want to be either.

3

Having avoided it all my life
my friends encourage me,
my vulnerability is a prize
not a weakness unlike a child.
I came seeking
to be vulnerable but not abducted.

Suppose
you had to Reduce yourself
six pictures,
three sentences,
your height.

4

The ideal place to meet is where she can escape
unannounced because I am pure potential.

Packed in this Asian American male caravan
Could be
A useless bag of wants and worries,
An inconsiderate masculine caricature,
A self proclaimed expert at everything
Or a Psycho Ax killer
A wallet, A wimp,
Or any other type of creature

For the most part I will be measured up
To the lucid idea of a perfection
And hopefully possess three memorable qualities
Despite knowing the checklist
It’s hard to be someone else.

5

A part of me looks up and serenades the clouds
A part of me hikes and paints mountain peaks
A part of me dances at the sight of fruit
A part of me skates aimlessly without a map
A part of me feels so far removed
from the common expectations of a man
A part of me fears that there is no one for me
I am an anthology of meaningless adventures
I am more of a unbound creature than anything else.

6

The tea shop lies a couple stops South
amongst rows of small businesses
Each storefront called out for attention
respectively hiding each other, so no one stood out
No one was a gem.
Funny how diversity overwhelms the unique,
Or actually filters it
But, we chose tea beforehand
So that’s it
Please, sit and wait
The appointment will come soon.

7

A ballpoint pen smoothly traces
Shelves from the suburban forest,
I’m here,
Where are you?
I’m inside
I inflate raggedly,
Inhaling and shuttering
inspecting her face
then averting my gaze to anything but.
We confirm our basic expectations
The profile matches up
With little to say
and mouths filled with cotton
we waddled to the menu etched on the plank.
Poor thing was beaten concave.

8

Let it be known
that cornbread muffins
Harmonize with tea.
They tasted like our dialogue
One bestows water steeped ashes
The other a sponge to absorb it
attentively sweet.
We alternate roles becoming
tea or bread.

8.5

At church
Communion shares a similar idea.
wine and leavened bread
make good biblical metaphors
for blood and body.
a reminder of undeserved sacrifices
Made for us.
At the beginning of each month
I felt guilty for his sacrifices.
I dreamt of an alternate world
where instead tea and cornbread
were made Holy.
We had spoken on religion
Family, and values until
the danger of nightfall reached its peak.
Depart

9

We assembled earrings
with sculpey clay and tin foil.

10

May I hold your hand?
I had never asked before
and never received

Being folded with another
Felt like
how I wished
For a decade
Folding my hands
in prayer to God should have felt.
As if I deserved peace or security.
Simply, because a funny starfish
probed the calluses on my palm
exploring souvenirs of layered abuse.
Self inflicted purpose. These hands
Never seeked to be anything more
than an assembly line.
Overthrown and filled with ambrosia
I thanked my skin
For being capable of this pleasure.

11

I filled every page
with every date idea I could think of
Everytime I met up with her
I wanted to offer an experience


I couldn't contain my excitement.

12

The 7th time we met
Perception, Connection, Reflection
in a red box.

13

After brunch, and rock climbing
we strolled up to the peak of Fort Greene

She started with, “I have something to tell you”

And my heart sank.

Knowing what those words meant

But I kept hope that she might surprise me.

“I really like you,

But also I’m dating someone else,

and he’s asked for exclusivity.

It doesn’t mean that we wouldn’t have worked out.
Because I’ve treasured every moment that we spent together.

But I met him earlier,
And he deserves to have his wish respected,

So I feel torn and I’m going to cry”

“Don’t cry, that’s understandable,
I understand what you must be feeling.
If you feel like that is the right choice,
I trust that you are doing what is right”
There were two lines that stood out to me.
A 2-hour heart-to-heart
Ended with
“I really want to keep you in my life” and
“You’re surprisingly mature”

14

Felt disposable
Felt immobile
Felt low

Ending Excerpt

Hummingbirds are known for two behaviors
pollinating and hovering in flight
But for me
they are most astonishing
For being such fragile creatures
the smallest bird on Earth
Consuming so little
Yet surviving cold winters
And still owning enough heart to be iridescent.

At this point,
Nurturing the idea of us
felt like two separate paths
Between freedom and nourishment.
Between flight and blossoms
A part of me was hovering here
Fixated on made up fantasy
Wrapped in this pillar
Enclosed in a hug.
But the fact is
she exited
and so should I.