Katherine Huang
Winner of the 2022 Greg Grummer Poetry Prize
1.
In ancient times
the two Moons agreed:
one would stay in the sky,
while the other would go
to live on Earth
among mortals.
2. 朋 (péng)
Friends (n., pl.) – two moons
in the same orbit.
3.
Perhaps my ancestors
already knew:
our bodies are made
from the mortal-Moon.
Whether that is belief or truth
is irrelevant.
4. 肺 (fèi)
Lungs (n., pl.) – the spices
at the night market
under a golden Moon.
5.
Of this alone I’m sure:
when my people saw how alike
we wrote “flesh” and “moon”,
we shaped “flesh” into “moon”
in our characters
for parts of the body.
6. 脉 (mài)
Pulse (v.) – to telegraph
the Moon constantly, even
when they can’t reply.
7.
The mortal-Moon misses
their friend in the sky
and wonders if they feel
the same. And so
our eyes are always
wistful when looking up.
8. 肚 (dù)
Belly (v.) – to crave
a mouthful of home,
sugared with Moonlight.
9.
Besides the eyes
of the newest and oldest
lovers, Moonlight
is most concentrated
in the fireflies that freckle
the cheek of summer.
10. 肤 (fū)
Skin (n.) – the way
the Moon kisses everyone
and only you, simultaneously.
11.
What is a feather
without air? What is
love without solitude?
What is the Sun
without the Moon?
(Listen to that again : )
12. 肝 (gān)
Liver (n.) – the exhaustion
when your despair
has drunk the Moon dry.
13.
When we die, we choose
a fragment of our bone
to reunite with the Moon.
Have you decided
which part of you
to immortalize yet?
14. 胜 (shèng)
Win (v.) – to birth a small moon
in the bowl of your hands.
15.
Tonight is pregnant
with tomorrow’s storm.
We Moon-bodies steep
in the haze of the Moon,
our cigarettes glowing
like fireflies in blue smoke.
Katherine Huang
is a graduate student in genomics and computational biology at the University of Pennsylvania. Her work has appeared in print/online at various places – most recently Pangyrus, West Trestle Review, Sweet Tree Review, and The Shore. When not writing or sciencing, she enjoys dancing and taking naps. You can find her on Twitter @Katabolical.