by Desmond Kon Zhicheng-Mingdé

There, a quiet remembrance –
thin walls, colloquium

volte-face, inversions
the same mirrored shine and glass

so we sleep better
slipping naked under sheets

roster-retractions
and altercations
and always inward-looking

the way your pulse races up
percussive, a paper plane

forgive our gentle lapses

both of us paper tigers
among the horses
the quadriga shifting shades