Give me your last name.
Not her not her not her

me.

I will shed my skin and assume yours.
I will pluck the rings from my fingers
like overripe cherries

and assume yours.

Your name clashes with mine.
It is hard to spell, it rolls like a stone pile.
But I will wear it every day
on my brow like a crown;

on my tongue like communion.

Until some unknown hands chisel it
letter-by-letter onto the stones that will mark us.

Jesus,
with all this wine wine wine
the water bill's overdue.

Violet-stained hands don't
wash away no sins.

Baptism don't come from a
faucet that don't run.

And we ran out, baby

there's not a drop to drink.

I've fallen in love
With all of you
From the stars
In your eyes
To the constellations
On your skin

We aren't family anymore. We never were.
We are just strangers living together.
In this broken house, with broken souls.

- a.c

They told me to wait,
So wait I did,
Until weeks turned into months turned into years.
Then she came along
And I said, '**** it.'

Worst time to be so flippant.
The result was a three year roller coaster ride
That ended like the Hindenburg.
Nice.  

Next, I turned to the nocturnal comforts,
Selecting hour-long companionship
With a click of the mouse
That ends with the closing of the window
Tossing of the damp tissues in the bin
And stepping out for a smoke,
With Jay Chou crooning in my ear
Singing of love new and lost.

Closing my eyes
My memory summons my gramps.

Those Japanese devils
My grandfather would tell me,
Lighting up another Marlboro
Before launching into another rambling tirade
About the misery of post-war China.
I'll ******* **** you if you get with one--
Disown you, even.
Rest his soul.

Does Maria Ozawa count, gramps?
Would you **** me
Or give me a high-five?
(I'd get smacked for being insolent.)

Bamboo switch in hand
Grandma would sit me down
And tell me how they used to fight over sewer rats
With other refugees for dinner.

Grandma, you'd shake your head
If I tell you about the rats
I have to work with
On a daily basis.
Your move.
(Oh wait, you're dead.)

The wisdom of my forefathers
Fossilized in ancient Chinese tomes
Extolling the virtues of patience

There are gem fragments to be found in the waiting.
One perfects oneself as one waits
For the time to ripen.
Life passing you by
Is naught but an illusion.

In the meantime
I've resigned myself
To wherever the mercurial turns of life
Take me.
I'm happy with the status quo.

i dug my nails into your back,
just trying to find purchase in the world that i was drowning in.

and all these years later
i still have a tendency to wander
to spin
to dance

and you watch me.
you watch me drift from foot to foot just testing my own stability
(i'm a lot more stable than i used to be)

i'm finally used to me