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2 poems
Ziyi Yan

Ziyi Yan (闫梓祎) is a young Chinese writer living in Connecticut. She is an alumnus of the Iowa Young Writers' Studio and the Adroit Journal Summer Mentorship. Her writing has been recognized by the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards on a national level. She is published or forthcoming in Kissing Dynamite, Polyphony Lit, elementia, Breakbread Literacy Project, eunoia, Daphne Review, Paper Crane Journal, and others. She is a poetry finalist for the BreakBread Literacy Project and the winner of the Piedmont Institution Communications Contest. She is also the editor in chief of The Dawn Review.

love on tour

i dangle through screams—a freshly pierced ear—
boa flailed to a lifeline. rip me proof
for life: flesh stamped to cymbals in money—
hued flares—tongues dangling—rapt for nothing but
salivation. swallow yourself to wake—
tongue blurred to mouth. rupture god from echoed
wombs—plead happy birthday for a mass. i
turn sixteen in a girl’s fingers—seconds
of her face—womb-like. you swaddle in some—
body’s pride flag—i squirm for your hand—what
to wish for: you leave a woman older
than you. a girl sleeps on my wounds—kisses
my teeth—says nothing. i close on a man
i don’t know—you are my only mother.

focal length

the moon can’t right itself.
more glass will

peel away its light, which
isn’t as stolen

as i think. dandelion,
how to tug you

to stars or dandruff:
i only wait

for dark. i tear

for my sister. i weave
a crown mostly

of trodden grass
to tickle

or reach at itself.
mom’s orchids can

handle ice, not water.
you can’t find any

retort to breakage:
it’s not created,

just rearranged.
all these bodies

i can’t stop.
these weeds,

all we can plant.

ring graves. knock
wood. mean not

what you say:
touch not

stars, but
the ice

in them.

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