ARRHYTHMIA by LYNN HUANG
Head cradled in arm's cool curve. I close my eyes, wait for some rhythm to capture by breath. Doors open onto wooden deck
and dark water. A fallen branch spreads wild beneath oily surface. Green ivy deepens red, spills over damp stone wall, street
lamps tall. Walking through frost, icicles glimmer, wait to be plucked. Dried jasmine blooms dark green in fragrant steam.
Outside, a perfect spider's web hangs. I gave you words wrapped in my still warm breath.