acts of self || reverse demolition

act i unborning myself
                                                                                                    from a small wedding in november upon
                                                                                                         a mythical boat restaurant
                                                                                                    eyes glisten with exorbitant carmine and
                                                                                                         buttered bangles tunnelling bare arms
                                                                                                    kept yourself home with earthly
                                                                                                         medicines on melted copper
                                                                                                    poured a ring of salt over
                                                                                                    melancholy like maidens whom kept
                                                                                                         their names to each pluck of
                                                                                                         sweetsop’s yearning crunch

act ii permission to
                                                                                                    overthrow suppressive indignation where
                                                                                                         the body remembers capacities
                                                                                                    of hurt held over tightened fists to
                                                                                                         opened orchids as my
                                                                                                    body remembers the galaxy blossoming
                                                                                                         yolks into supple scalp
                                                                                                    i gather horse mane by means of violin
                                                                                                         bows sewn into my hips rusts a
                                                                                                         golden milk enough to know
                                                                                                    burden through pavlov’s dog

act iii forgive me
                                                                                                     when i become a haunted house
                                                                                                     full of mirrored trajectories
                                                                                                    remembering small palms dipping into an
                                                                                                         infinity of beans
                                                                                                    when i say i am alone i mean you were
                                                                                                         born into an eulogy
                                                                                                    room filled with orchestrated trumpets
                                                                                                         blaring wildness to undulated flesh
                                                                                                    where placed ear to earth i listen for
                                                                                                    a small quietus of echolocation

Claudia Yang (she/her) is a trilingual earth being processing cycles through writing, performance and reconnecting with lineage. she was born + raised on unceded Coast Salish territories to Hong Kong parents, and currently a settler in Tkaronto. her forthcoming + published work can be found in Trick Magazine, Bitter Melon Poetry, Scum Mag, and Invisibilities Zine.   INSTAGRAM