crash

throat trembles bones,

body a soda pop

thrown by the hand of God

on Beijing walls

I hold onto it

hold, hold, hold

till a dribble dribbles

down the threshold

and cheeks sting

ocean salts

then the chest shakes

as ghosts trigger pacemakers

beating their drums

for the rivers while they mold

plains and mounds

into glossy veins

roaming with the years of backlogged pain

I sometimes wish I never found

sometimes