postmortem for chaos theory
here i am, thinking about the summer
collapsed around you. the leonine
days, the sullen nights. my body a
cascading series of monsoons.
i watch as you dismember me. my wrists wrung
from my hands and each rib carefully pendent
on the ceiling. the wreck
-age of light strewn around myself,
my leftovered body. the heatwave
this year. so it’s summer, it’s
salvageable, and i am
thinking about quantum mechanics. the
uncertainty of it all, the truth that there is
a universe where
we learn to float. where the
horizon isn’t wide enough, and
we chew up the syllables like goldenrod.
so now we’ve widowed the lip of the
change and i am still searching
for you in the breath-smothered glass,
the digital glow of the beautiful night.
i am a violet-shaped wound, but
dimly. by the smallest margin.
and already the body grieves,
apocryphal. the laws of physics break
the universe into body-sized pieces—
the kind our hands can
bear to hold.
Eunice Kim is a Korean-American writer living in Seoul. Her work has been published in Polyphony, The Heritage Review, Vagabond City Lit, and more. She currently works as a staff reader for The Adroit Journal and a volunteer writer for Her Culture.