windpush

Oscar Sun (10) | STAFF REPORTER

Thought I could’ve met you outside
that’s why I go around the square.
The push I feel immediately, seeing how much 
you’ve hated me but we both know it’s vain and
I will be in around your embrace eventually 

Months since I’ve found somebody like you 
leaning on you and with a twitch of eyelids
dropped my pearls running wild, 
and you swallowed them, you swallowed my tears
I wonder whether they’re salty, whether they bring you misery

Turn, wondrous turn,
give me no compasses, give me no sign
windpush from the right 
you play with my hair with sunlight pour 
and swing the lake strings like you’d use to play the harp

My figure tilted and put all the weight on the right,
why provide me support and comfort
when doubtlessly I feel your repulsion from windpush
why do you circle around me, center of swirls
and decorate me with withered leaves

Turn, curious turn
cut me open and healing me fine
Going against you, going into you
Empowered, windpush you could never escape from me
as I am hustling into the center of your withered swirl

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Windpush, the fragrance rushing into my nostrils, is the smell of
your sweat when we are twisted together 
is your knife that slaps soil into my face
I’ve felt open because the entirety of my cavity
is exposed to your windpush and its fragrance with a single breath

Turn, mystical turn 
our intertwined vines will brew into wine
expectations will be meet with disappointments
windpush and your zeal are gone, and I want them back,
does matter whether the zeal breeds your hatred for me or not

Turn, the farewell turn
the gentle breath of yours has already had the passion weakened
now I know everything is vain because
my reluctance has destroyed you, and I am already feeling you, 
floating away, slipping from my fingernails, this time I let you go

Windpush is an instant, I’ve seen
your best, and windpush’s witnessed
my most childish protests, my stubbornness to go into you. 
Now I’ve understood, windpush is not a push, 
you are fleeting past me, a momentary mutual gaze, a farewell, a slip

You are gone. 
I play with your wheat hair
the golden bending grass swaying under the sunlight

I will meet Windpush again.