The sun slumped like a button,
coated with chalky anti-dotes
and cinnamon reservations
then stolen, the sun
was vivisected
along with all my trust in the one–
the ones who say they’ll obey
the ones who lay bare their banks
the ones who quake when it’s cold
too cold to contemplate
staying
I remember the sun,
slumped like a button
anointed on powdery counter tops
in a whirl,
where second chances play
no favorites.
— yiqi 11 sept 2012 6:57 PM