Yuyuan Huang
snake lips
I have three tongues they
slip over each other like snakes
like shé[1] like seh[2]
each one less distinguished than the last
tongues slithering across ocean over sky
it is years until they share a mouth
no wonder my family is snakelike
our tongues are forked
ama used to say ai wu ji wu[3] I love you
crows and all but kindergarten no-heart told me I was
not welcome here I cried
crow tears and woke wishing for a better tongue
I lost one tongue in the fire it was
stolen I want it back
yuh[4] is the language of ghosts is spice and salt
is loose strings is wide grins is foggy
blindfolds is rice stalks is rinsing pearls[5]
is family is home
er[6] is the language of grievers is black rain
is an empress’ bullets[7] is someone
else’s star is a bridge across the galaxy[8]
is a world divided
three is the language of greatness is arcadia is
bitter pride is fire tinged trees is
dark dawn is purple mountain majesty
is freedom is love
I am running out of words
to tell you I love you
can you translate this into another
goodbye?
[1] “snake” in Mandarin
[2] “snake” in Cantonese
[3] ancient Chinese proverb, literally meaning “if you love your house, love the crows on it too”
[4] “one” in Cantonese
[5] the tradition of washing rice
[6] “two” in Mandarin
[7] an old story about Empress Wu
[8] an old story about two lovers on opposite sides of the Milky Way
Yuyuan Huang is a young poet from the Boston area. Her work has previously been published in the Blue Marble Review, Paper Crane Journal, and the Ice Lolly Review, among others. She has been recognized by the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards since 2020. She is constantly searching for new wonders.