I like three-pronged forks,
goodbye kisses (more than hello ones),
sleeping in rooms with dusty books
while it rains hard against the window.
I wear goggles while chopping onions,
and count everything that is white:
sugar, the paws of my lady-cat,
my mother’s orchid that is in perfect bloom
and just about to die.
I think about your soft, brown, dissimilar eyes,
and how I pretend
they never reach me.
I think of the way you touch me sometimes,
so gently, at the hip,
as if this ache were suddenly allowed,
as if we were about to hop on a train
towards some kinder,
more understanding universe.
Jenny is a Chinese citizen living in California and an aspiring writer. She moved to the US from China at age fourteen, and is currently a senior at Beverly Hills High School. Aside from writing, she’s passionate about social justice and animal rights.