These white lights shine too bright for my

poor dead eyes, and the man’s ramblings, he

held my eardrums hostage. Then came a sudden squall, she

engulfed me in one heck of a waterfall.


Faint moonlight peeked at the end of a musty, darkly lit stairwell we

saw each other and laughed at our equally drenched clothes, our

wet hair. As sewer rats, we scurried to rescue potted plants, we

whipped *****, thuds on white walls, with sticks and knives and all. We

rolled on the floor and nearly got concussions, sprained ankles. I

remembered how to fall again, to do it all in one fell swoop.


I know my body was mine, but now it is also yours, so we

danced, barefoot, twirled in our arms, caught each other, ate our

mother’s mooncakes while the storm rages on somewhere, outside. We

smiled, mouths full with black sesame, white lotus, egg yolks, our

laughter echoing under this gentle white light, upon this warm wood.

This conversation spins nothing, but this means everything to me.


We walk under the damp, stale, starless sky, remnants of the squall. You

suddenly proclaimed that all stars have gathered for me,

and it is my stage, my game now, so I

went home smiling despite it all. You

don’t know that this mid-autumn night was all I ever dreamed of.