Poem: Spine
At 23, I wrote a romantic poem about back pain.
SPINE
Perhaps if I aligned mine just right,
I could love you better.
Your fingertips would appreciate
a line of stars crackling under skin.
I could slip by these storms like a
gymnast fish, swiftly past offers of science
or circus lights. These bones should only
fit against yours in the dark.
and baby, you have met your share of serpents, you say
mythology is so dead it never existed— so turn the page!
My bones are columns of fresh text, tightly bound,
crisply anticipating your weather.
Without pain, I could safely carry dreams;
I could stretch out like summer and rise to you
like the verdurous mountain which for centuries
has practiced to meet the sea.
Liy, 23. A poem I would read onstage and introduce as "a romantic poem about back pain," for example at Readings @ No Black Tie in Kuala Lumpur, July 2010.
