Wei River Winter 2018, Xinxiang, Henan Province, China

The sun dimly white and thin
hangs over the Xinxiang rooftops.
Frozen thoughts swim
to the dry banks of the Wei River.
Locked and clattered in the same broken run.

Why did you stay, but not forever?
A constant companion sang the cat.
A perfect octave in a moment of intervals,
between margins of half-heard music
and the last light of unclear whispers.

Now the days and nights are wounded.
A hallmark of all the hidden places.
Like a sleepless boy who hates his bed,
something of this slow fading is impossible to forget.

From my window,
I can see clouds breaking the morning.
Turning to see your shy-flushed face,
that carries the shreds of a dream
that I can’t remember.
Delicate spaces between us
separate me from the world.