[DÀN] DAY / MORNING / DAYBREAK / DAY SPRINGThe fifth word for dawn sounds like a fat eggeasily swayed off the counter / the kind that's all bellywhen it stretches awake / My whole childhoodI had listened for it / that first crackling of the daylike a splintered door / and I'd sink in the blanketsas sun-yolk spilled out / not knowing the daywill break you / you never meaning to breakSplit open / it is written as fried egg sun over hot pan horizonWhen we thought we were pregnantand I began sculpting a placenta / no one explainedthe placenta is a distracted thing / lets cells slip throughbut here I am / carrying bits of our future lostwhile we sweep up the shavings and wax / Always somethingto say goodbye to 旦 I carve and there / grapefruit cloudsare sprouting / I start thinking about what shoes to wearhow to keep the egg from rolling off / if the daywill be a hard one or soft / There is an inventioncaught in my ribs / too much historyto call it accident / too small to be intentionalHow do we speak of things madebut not named / I carve againand somewhere in the mess of split yolks and claywill be the markings of what those days did to us
Copyright © 2023 by Yun Wei.
All rights reserved.
Reproduced by Poetry Daily with permission.
Yun Wei received her MFA in poetry from Brooklyn College and studied at Georgetown University and London School of Economics. She has been awarded second place in the Boulevard Poetry Contest and first place in the Geneva Literary Prizes. Her work appears in over 15 journals, including Brooklyn Rail, Michigan Quarterly, Shenandoah, Identity Theory, Poetry Northwest, Wigleaf and Word Riot. Her debut novel is represented by Levine Greenberg Rostan Literary Agency. She works in global health in Switzerland, where she relies on chocolate and tears to survive mountain sports.
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