Angel Zhao

in future-tense

now that the house is aflame I can see you in the sky
somehow disaster has made you visible
I still remember you asleep in the car
no longer neck-deep in bathtub water
a baby of your own hurt
suspended in warm liquid waiting to be born again
it is sunday and I’m bad at endings
tell the doctor that I am tired
of running from the smell
of blood & I did not believe in love
fitting inside of you until I had left
all of mine
in the darkness of the master bathroom
I spilled the big-girl perfumes
& refused to wash my hands after pee-pee
so you could understand that disobedience
is also something like love
you are stepmother
the one who always lives in the stories
what will sustain your brain activity after your body is gone
will my kiss on your cheek be anything
less than a storm warning
it is not a means to an end I just want you to listen
keep listening
confirm that you faced the door
with good feng shui when it ended
I hope I find you in corridors mirrors the faces of cats
sometimes I imagine you reincarnated
as a sheep of green pastures
jumping over the barbed fences to sky
how far would you make it without a child
catching you

Angel Zhao (赵安琦) was born in Xiamen, China, but lives in Vancouver, Canada. Her work has been recognized by the League of Canadian Poets, the New York Times, Poetry In Voice, and nationally by Scholastics Art and Writing Awards, amongst others. She is an alumna of the Kenyon Young Writers Workshop, Iowa Young Writers’ Studio, and the Adroit Mentorship. She is a co-Editor-in-Chief for Kerfuffle Lit and has the pleasure of reading for Flat Ink Magazine. She loves her long-distance friends and Sade.