August 26, 2023 - Ellen Zhang’s “So There We Were In Aisle 5”

So There We Were In Aisle 5

in some city that neither of us could call home. 

Searching for the comfort in craft stores ready to

reimagine all senses. The truth is, we could have

slipped through or gotten lost in any census. Regardless,

we still found ourselves retracing our steps

across: the parking lot, an ocean, leukemia.

Like the way it made me wait, your hair fall out, 

a falling out the shade of the spring tides. 

The last time you cried, each tear clung to 

your eyelashes. Growing back fluffy and right,

but also left. Right, anyways, so untangling my hands

to handle colors of dawn, prescriptions, hospital gowns.

These days, I sift through memories keeping

only the most honest ones: long coffee nights

dawning, EKGs quivering with every breath, color of

wistfulness, coloring friendships not broken but.

Disintegrated. Not knowing what was to pass, we

passed time together. Scattering of tools and craft in the

tranquility garden. Close your eyes: side of your

face drawn. In another life, you are Georges Seurat. 

See what I did there, a metaphor in both senses, 

the other being the touch of my fingers against 

bitten, raw half-moons, wishing myself to be galaxies,

upon a separation of hands. So rather than then.