Bangkok Stories, Part 1: Perspectives

Crumbled tissue with coffee stains

A rose, perhaps
dying, its petals
giving in to yellows
and browns, or

a vagina,
tired
after unwanted sex?



Postpartum

Trying
to stretch into an arabesque penchée
in the pool, at the
four feet mark I bend forward
feeling the lift of my body
in the clear water,
chest dipping in;

the muscles in my leg
hesitates to rise
up, and out
to break the liquid surface.



The cold air between my fingers,
yours, and his;

I couldn't help being distracted
from the lights, the screaming noises
of the movie screen in front of me, how
even in a moment like this—moment of
public darkness, the two of you
so subtle, as if unaware your fingers are
madly intertwined in what I want to imagine as
sex positions.



DJ Station (Scents)

When bodies gather,
moving to the speaker’s bass
skin to skin; there is
no place for fabric,
no containment of
this shared body heat—
scents of perfumes
and sweat, a marriage
so perfect yet
tragically fading.


Red Candle

This year I grew too old
to have that many candles
on my birthday cake, so
they just gave me one
big red candle to fulfill
my wish;

how funny
life’s metaphors can be.