Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Joanne Yuan May 2021
a weekend vanishes in smoke,
what even happened? I cannot recollect

is sleep cyclic? an hour inducing yet
another, passing days in dreamy hazes

I think I did things — my calendar tells me so.
but the hours pass by in foggy mist.

perhaps I should talk to more people
perhaps I should read a book
perhaps I should write some poetry

but these things require so much effort

I may as well sleep
Joanne Yuan May 2021
They first met in the fruit aisle, both pacing to and fro
— but she tripped before he could say hello
The next was in class, their luck was cursed
— seats alphabetized by last names instead of first
A chance meeting in a bookstore, if only he had lingered
— he had left by the time the entrance bell jingled
A double wedding inside a white-bedecked hall
— the groom caught the bride just as she had a fall

Alas, it was not they who were a pair — it was too late
Some soulmates just do not have the right fate.
Joanne Yuan May 2021
— frayed red yarn
            (three year?)
                             shattered

                  ; a slippery coating
          stiffly                     ;
rigor mortis setting in




butterflies
fluttering flight
pt 2/2
Joanne Yuan May 2021
an oath of fraternity
a lifetime                     promise
a jade pendant

a sea of red
arms             intertwined

sips of wine

one follows the other

butterflies
fluttering flight
pt 1/2
Joanne Yuan Feb 2021
they wander among the kelp
hand in claw — the moments
their stolen treasures

the mer and catfolk
are forever at war

but that is of no concern
for love conquers all

eyestalks peep
out of the sand

the next day —
the cat is found floating belly-up
the fish is fresh on a plate

catfish swarm among the kelp
that they once roamed through
Joanne Yuan Feb 2021
a deserted doc
waits patiently
its turn

while other tabs wage war
battle cries of notifications
flashing texts to distract
guerrilla warfare

but really
it’s quite unnecessary

content
is always
easier consumed
than created

and I —

I’ll always take the simpler path
Joanne Yuan Jan 2021
"If you lie on the grass,
you can feel the heartbeat of the world."

We all play our parts in its symphony  
and I — perhaps I am the hydraulophone  

I like imagining myself as water.
The river running through Liyue.

It is smooth and calm,
unperturbed by anything

Even words — they fall like fragmented shards.
Leaving ephemeral ripples on the surface.

At least, this is what I aspire to.
But at my core, I am still frost.

Push too hard and I can still turn to ice.

And the pagophone in the ensemble,
playing to its own beat.
Next page