My voice leaves me
in no manner of conviction
as my pulse warms me
with minor habit-I'm drifting


Lately I’ve been dreaming about Berkeley  
and how the streets there are covered in fruit trees
I dream about New York and the separate life I lived two years ago
Speaking Mandarin in Boston
and English in Bologna
It seems more like a film reel than my life


I used to dream of what my heart looked like on the inside

I thought it was important

And when I was 16 I was convinced it was a mountain range

Now I worry mostly about my lungs quivering
and when my dreams will tell me what it means