By M.L. Chan


Naked she stands before the edge of a

waterfall cascading; the blackened clouds

unleash their fury: bolts tearing the sky

apart, roars amplifying the downpour,

and raindrops diluting the salty tears.

Downward she fearfully gazes to find

foaming and fuming the face of a lake

that is battered by frailty and fear.

Then spreading out her arms, resigned, she dives

and drowns in that chaotic lake, resolved

to give up life in order to live again;

and in her final thoughts she finds the deep

captivating, without captivity –

her bones become the treasures of the lake.


Oh let me melt in Spring and see again

your unreserved smile – a coat of sweet

nectar your finger brushed and counter-brushed

infinite times on my finite lips. So

in ignorant generosity you gave,

and I received with deliberate greed,

drowning every taste bud with that summer drink,

then sucking dry my lips, craving for more.

But now that you are departed, my tongue,

licking around my autumn lips, can taste

nothing but anesthetic bitterness.

Paralyzed between water and earth, I’ll

remain frozen in wintry sleep, until

my thirst is indulged by that fervent touch.

Published on: October 30, 2015 < Back >