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Writer's pictureYun-Fei Wang

hurricanes and phantoms will always taste like you

after Rina Sawayama

content warning: mentions of self harm

does it count as chasing hurricanes if she looked nothing like

the women who had hurt you? magenta handprints behind

plastic bags & she offered me cut-up fruit like they were

drops of water. sometimes it feels statistically wrong for us to

have met like how could you have my eyes but turn around

gleaming in everything i’m not? my gravestone says an inside

joke. hold the girl until she grows a woman's body–then pluck

her off like a maggot-infested fruit. we can fuck each other up

in one night but it is so unlike you to make mistakes and so

unlike me to recognize i am hurting. split an ethnic dessert

right down the middle. send my love to all the ghosts you’ve

let slip away and hope for a sign if they’re really here. shades

of pinks/yellows/blues stretch into fingertips i cannot cross. i

cut my thigh in front of you but you don’t understand what it

all means yet. still on the carousel, spinning out a fanfiction of

your own childhood. the body i’m thinking about is either an

inner child or it is yours–where do we draw the line if not

vertically down my wrist? all i want is to feel beautiful. i’ve

closed every exit but you find me time after time. touch me,

like north wind, until i find your door–and turn into your ghost.

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