back when we came so easy, twin halves cleaved
by merely two years & ten months. Sisterhood:
splintered grapefruits, sticky at solstice. spilt
sunshine, pooling on our canvas floor. scattered
pearls — when we sneak through the vanity, drowning
in silk shirts & wonder if we will ever be beautiful
or at least some synonym of 妈1 or 爸2. under our dewy
mandarin tongues, even part of one’s name is shared
with the other. you are infused in every memory & tale I tell.
an infinity later, I leave for the first time. not even
the ribs of your scarlet-lined dusk can cage me from halfway
across the country. bare flights, new sights, nineteen hours
after I’m gone, & I finally pass it alone. a secret,
coated tart on shaven teeth: 有时候我想一个人3。
snip the nautical naval starcord tied around our necks,
snap our pair jade chokers, shave your first name off
of mine. remember when we planted mailboxes outside
our facing doors? doodles of stamps & chicken scratch
of words. I forgot that my address is no longer home. loss
is more than just letters, but the name of your first crush,
the slant of your scowl, the blue slate of your room.
let me retract every secret I’ve kept but this:
despite it all, for every twin-smile grapefruit slice, I sneak
you the broader half. it is the easiest decision every time.
- 妈: mother
- 爸: father
- 有时候我想一个人: double meaning of “sometimes I want to be alone” or “sometimes I think of only one person”
Lia Wang loves stories so much, she decided to create her own. She has been recognized by Scholastic Art and Writing Awards, Iowa Young Writers’ Studio, Ice Lolly Review, JUST POETRY!!!, among others. When not starting another draft, Lia can be found tracing shapes into the clouds.