by Xiao Yue Shan
upon arrival at the end of the earth
we hung up a tapestry all-coloured
over our ruined windows
early sun cleared the silk
and scattered prismatic over
our bare legs and arms
we had travelled a long way
for that one instant
that led into the next one
for an instinct to never
never return
we did not point at light
portioned by horizon
we followed no magnetic needle
and looking to the salted night
we saw no figures rising
no scales of absolute justice
no silence in discord
only we followed the stories
that lined our feet like leather
the voices of mothers
the voices of sisters
we followed the numerous directions
and tested the wind
the calamitous collapse
of our actual world
beginning over and over
as we stretched our wrists
to face each new yellow rising
never beginning
quite at the beginning
we had read many great accounts
of those who set out
of those who bled
who were buried
who were silenced
ofthose who were patient and brave
in their never-return
they lived among us sentient
the brief life of rainwater
and upon our arrival
at the very end of the earth
they rose with pinking skin
to sit among us and upon us
in this same world
colours traced through them
their palms ashing into
our stained silk
so that we could not look out
without seeing them
their very many stories
their ruined glorious bodies
had they been here
they would have laughed
incredulous light
we had arrived!
with a shine of singing
dipping cups into the pacific
we drank the ocean
it was lemonade
Xiao Yue Shan is a poet and essayist born by the Bohai Sea, raised on the Pacific coast, and living alongside Meguro River. Her work can be found in Southampton Review, Shanghai Literary Review, Redivider, Indiana Review, and Briar Cliff Review, among others. Her first chapbook, How Often I Have Chosen Love, is forthcoming by way of Frontier Poetry. Click here to visit her website.