by Dana Chiueh

O how sweet is that aggressive belonging. O how unkeepable. O how it feels like nature. Impossible but it is done. O otherworld familiarity. O the temptation through each misunderstanding. O the could be shine. O unrendered. O anonymous walls we grace into dust. O monument of crumble. O, but let me be the walls. O, but let me live to see the plum overtaken by soft.

Dana Chiueh is from Taiwan and writes from New York. She is a member of Stanford University’s spoken word collective, and her writing has appeared in more than a dozen literary magazines. She loves to talk, sometimes online – send her disability studies and emerging media reading recommendations @danachewy.