Waving
1 min readAug 4, 2020
her water has memories
rushing into the moonlight brushing the stones
smaller
drowning the fishes and whistling to the beauties
younger
plucking and sewing and blushing for the
emperor
rubbing and shrinking and dying the robes
whiter
the smoke from stalls of fish they stole and burned
fainter
the smell of blood from metal they built on her
stronger
she was more celebrated then
when poets still crossed mountains and rivers for their
lover
