(a story in senryu stanzas)

I get migraines.
- lucky me - glare can set me
off within seconds.

I always have a
pair of dark, polarized shades
with me - it’s a quirk.

When I was fourteen,
we lived in Shenzhen, China
very near Macau.

Macau, China, the
“Las Vegas” of Asia, is
the home of glare.

The Ritz-Carlton, has
a glittering galaxy
of bright chandeliers.

Those chandeliers move,
their silhouettes change shape - just
stab me with a spork.

Did I mention the
Mirrors? Every wall served to
magnify the light.

“You look awful,” my
mom said - our two week booking
became ten minutes.

“I just need sunnies,
those would work,” then I gasped
“I’ll look glamorous!”

We changed hotels, but
what a small world - my roommate
Leong grew up there.

We could have passed in
the yè shì as teenagers
and now we're roommates.
.
.
sunnies = sunglasses (UK slang)
yè shì = night market (simplified Chinese)

I was at a friend's pool after school.
She loaned me this impossibly tiny bathing suit.
I looked at it skeptically but I didn’t ask whose it was.
It smelled faintly of chlorine.
We were supposed to be alone.
Her older brother came home.
His eyes settled on my skin,
like a wash of immediate sunburn.
It was awkward and thrilling to be watched.
I pretended not to notice,
behind my sunglasses,
I ignored him.
My friend noticed. “Perv alert, let’s go in.” she said.
I didn’t want to go but I didn’t let it show.

Open container filled with empty ashes,
a heart broken like a pair of old sun glasses.
Time's have changed and moon fades to grey,
my lips kiss the end of a fresh cigarette, lighting the tip
I begin to puff, blow out the smoke and feel a rush through my veins.

competing with the sunny world for glory
you prop up a flowery umbrella
a little sky of your own

then you turn your head around
and with a sweet smile
scorch a pair of eyes
hidden behind
a sunglasses

Set out from the sandy shore.
The lake an everlasting Paramore.

The boat breaths like my hearty chest
Up and down upon the waves white-tipped crest

Overhead the birds squawk in a one-note tune.
Like a harpsichord playing an unknown song.

Turning away from the sun
The blue ocean becomes glum Black sunglasses fall further on my face.

Water droplets still find my smiling face.
Sailing wind drives us away from my starting place

A Call
A Shout.
Turning on my breath

A shoreman’s happiest wish
A fresh face for whom to softly kiss.

The boat turns toward our shore.

Leading us to both softly tip
Without a word on our fearless lips

Docking us once more
Upon the sandy shore.

Your angelic words wrapped with demonic intent
Wont reach me from all the way up there
Your pedestal is too high, I'm afraid I can't hear a word you say
Your godlike vocabulary can't hide that devilish motive
And for as much as you lie, you are one awful liar
That angel light of yours can't blind me anymore
I have a special pair of sunglasses now
They block out all the repugnant **** from sight

Sun scorching, sweltering, sizzling beach

My hardened soles resist the heat

Sunglasses shielding my eyes

White cotton ball clouds glide

Along deep blue skies

But I’m blue too

Intensely

Missing

You