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Memento Mori Anita Liu
Memento Mori
By Anita Liu
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I sit atop the pale blue moon In the arch of its crescent arm Fishing for stars In the sea of curious constellations: The Aurora Borealis.
I catch a burning star, Flames licking my tender palms, I see your face as I look at My scorching hands.
I hurl the star, Aiming for your house. The fire leaves my fingertips As the star soars Towards the shingled roof Of your garage.
10 ASIAN OUTLOOK
It burns the car Where I first got to know you — Or, at least— What you let me think was true.
Your slender silhouette Disintegrates in flames, And I throw our pictures Into the fire too.
Field alive with waving arms Welded from fire.
My fingers burning, I kiss you goodbye. As I climb in, my hands Get splintered on The edges of my Mahogany coffin. I set it next to where Your biology once Housed your soul.
And now — It’s just A corpse in the soil.
Scorching earth is my hearth As my coal heart combusts Your hand to hold In the incandescence Of red, orange and gold.
My arm hangs out Of my coffin. Nothing more than A wooden box Without a top.
With the last beats of My pulsating heart I whisper into the night During the last second Of my dying light I create My own spotlight Your entire property Set aflame.
As your neighbors Come out of their houses In the dead of night The results of a Murder suicide are exhibited On your burning lawn.
Killed two birds With one stone, In the very end, I still died alone.
