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