ÖMËGÄ
UNTITLED ❋ Sherry Huang
When reticence gets its own smile it’s an eye gleam like a wet wound. You
use your body to understand language it furls into asymptote and
never comes. At any point it is possible to let it down. The betrayal of
ordinary things in their not staying ordinary. There is blood in my mouth
and I brush my teeth. I don’t know. Maybe there is a way to tell. It’s just so
easy to forget. Let me have that time
all sound erupted from a distance.
And we left it behind.
how even that was soft
how you were, no matter what.
I want to tell you.
It takes heart
to put the days’ quotation marks under erasure. But somehow
we do it.
Saying you
to mean anyone.
Already anyone is to mean you.