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disconnection | Selina Zha

just a forlorn gaze 

at my missing self 

reminds me of our boudoir,

once we hermit crabs’ shell. 

I imagine myself

growing from the dry light spots.

 

Why only dots in the third quadrant are erased?

Because they signify simple subtraction upon subtraction.

 

I'm beginning not to recognize anyone.

Brief venting followed by prolonged

forgetfulness.

Silence infuses the lips   

like a voltaic seepage.

 

Isn't this already the second batch of survivors under your command?

They're just social media accomplices.

 

I dare not admit to

long become your  

electronic ghost.

Faced with frequent requests, "To pretend you're still on the job”,

I dare not comply.

How is this not a form of counterfeiting?

 

Yet I dare not ask

 if my departure weighs heavily.

Do you digest the same old appetite, 

with the same portion, in the same mode? 

I imagine myself 

being nibbled and devoured 

in the words of others.

 

I see your confusion: 

If you bought a pair of shoes that

you'll never wear for the rest of your life,

 why do you still open its box 

from time to time? 

 

Born in Beijing, China, Selina Zha is a teenage poet currently based in Boston, MA. As an Iowa Young Writer Studio alumna, her works have been previously recognized by Global Times, Social Justice Watcher, WILDsound Writing Festival, and more. She finds joy in editing poetry in both English and Chinese, delving into Menglongism Poetry, and examining poetic elements in cinematic contexts.

 
 
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