My body has mapped a middle
A no man’s land that sometimes ventures to the space on either side, but always
Retreating back to the centre that divides the two
Mutable and quick to adapt it thrives on constant weather changes in the mud
Speaking a language of its own leaving the onlookers pinched and unsettled, but
They love when it rains to watch me write fuck you in the soil
And after plant flowers in the same spot, instantly regretting when they say they are
‘Beautiful!’
My childhood memories-
Like drinking Milkis on the swings in the playground
Feet drawing pictures on the sand beneath as I push myself forward and back
Before heading up for dinner in the ding, dong, deng of the lift, the chimes of sanctuary
To eat doenjang-guk, bap, banchan
Smelling the dust and humidity still lingering from the day as we roll
Under the purple night sky to buy ice-cream for dessert, Melona
Provokes an inadequacy in them that fuels my burial
What sweetness it would be for us all
To exclaim in my delights and share what it feels like
To be caught, to be held, even if only for a split second
It’d be sure to move us out of here
But they are too polite to question the faint gurgling coming from the trench I have dug
Preferring to wait in their drought as it cracks their flesh
Instead of reaching a hand
Down below