by Marilyn Chin
My shadow followed me to San Diego
silently, she never complained.
No green card, no identity pass,
she is wedded to my fate.
The moon is a drunk and anorectic,
constantly reeling, changing weight.
My shadow dances grotesquely,
resentful she can't leave me.
The moon mourns his unwritten novels,
cries naked into the trees and fades.
Tomorrow, he'll return to beat me
blue—again, again and again.
Goodbye Moon, goodbye Shadow.
My husband, my lover, I'm late.
The sun will plunge through the window.
I must make my leap of faith.
Read, listen, share, create, and be on watch.
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