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