Memento Mori I sit atop the pale blue moon In the arch of its crescent arm Fishing for stars In the sea of curious constellations: The Aurora Borealis. I catch a burning star, Flames licking my tender palms, I see your face as I look at My scorching hands. I hurl the star, Aiming for your house. The fire leaves my fingertips As the star soars Towards the shingled roof Of your garage.
By Anita Liu
It burns the car Where I first got to know you — Or, at least— What you let me think was true. Your slender silhouette Disintegrates in flames, And I throw our pictures Into the fire too. Field alive with waving arms Welded from fire.
My fingers burning, I kiss you goodbye. As I climb in, my hands Get splintered on The edges of my Mahogany coffin.
10 ASIAN OUTLOOK
I set it next to where Your biology once Housed your soul.
