Tin Hau (天后) Station


At night when I cannot sleep I have an urge

to climb up on the roof

and count the empty spaces between stars

they are always so far.

I wonder what time it

is in Hong Kong but realize that the sun is out,

nobody is watching the stars in Hong Kong with me.


Once, many years ago

I stood admiring a happy yellow poster in the Hong Kong Metro

40 feet away from my parents when someone covered my eyes

I was too surprised to scream

and was left gaping when my uncle’s face appeared in my view

suddenly thankful I wasn’t being stolen away to the mainland.


In bed, I looked up

at the ceiling imagining

a mirror out of which grows two women: one with monolids,

one with double

they look back at me, unamused. I cannot tell which one looks happier

to be living a 2-dimensional life.


When I sat in a cafeteria in the Midwest and carefully crushed four

small pearls of lychee between my molars for the first time in several years my friend asked how they tasted

so I told him they tasted like Hong Kong 12 years ago but he did not understand.

Leave a Reply