Chen-ou
Liu, CA
sunlight covers
a pile of dusty chapbooks
chickadee's cry
over green
tea
we share our childhood dreams
distant siren
page
turned to Job
the cancer patient
takes notes on sin
end
of Ghost Month
the moon and I make our way
through the night
droplets
between her breasts
and a long night
a shooting star
again, I pass the tree house
of our childhood
my shadow
lies next to Paul...
hospice room
morphine
fog
moonlight here, there
and everywhere
alone with dumplings
that taste of the round-shaped one
with her hair in it
Taipei
memories...
first sunbeams touch the far end
of the winter sky
