Frank Xie


I.
Do you remember how we first met—
when I counted to a thousand thousand, and
you took me and I took you then—

II.
Do you remember when I taught Mum
how to pick up the pearly grains of rice
with chopsticks,
the hard click of chopsticks,
the soft pop as it disappeared into our mouths.

III.
Do you remember how we used
to look each other in the eyes, knowingly—
and suddenly tears, they'd flow down
in salty rivulets
like we were a hosepipe—
and Mum caught on
eventually,
and we caught on
eventually.

IV.
Do you remember taking those
Go lessons together, how you'd
fidget with your fingers
and I'd pinch those ceramic discs like
they were going to flee
from me, and you'd unhelpfully
point out where I misplaced,
and stick your tongue out at my opponent
when he did.

V.
Do you remember the glint
in your eye when Mr. Stewart,
tired of seeing my hand gasping for breath
every time he'd ask a question,
let us sit down at the back—
how I asked, may I cut out
some shapes while I am sitting there, Sir,
how the greedy eyes under neatly-groomed hair
followed us back and I narrowed my eyes, declared,
I'm doing something
important, he let me.

VI.
That time I tried our hand at pottery
and our *** flopped, pieces of it caving into a pile of clay—
and you whispered your magic,
and suddenly a cup seemed to take shape before me—
…how you could talk, and my feet
would move just that little bit faster—
how you could talk, and I would know that
that bread would burn—
how could you talk, say that
I'd been skiing the snowy slopes of Austria,
when I had also been hunched, gnarled
over a piece of scrunched-up paper,
exactly then—

VII.
…how you'd ask late at night,
why are you still working,
and I'd walk to the bathroom mirror,
look beyond, ask who'd been
begging me not to for the last few hours—

VIII.
…when we'd sit at the piano keys,
the zebra crossing would melt together—
and we'd shuffle—
always behind, you'd complain—
always ahead, I'd ask—
and the world caught on—

IX.
did your words always ring so hollow?
…when you saw me, I saw you,
just the same,
with closed eyes, still limbs—
and they were your eyes, your limbs—
I cried that day—so did you—
you caught on—

X.
Do you remember when
I said goodbye, and?
I said goodbye, to me,
I said goodbye, and you were
and you weren't, and I was—