seasons, remixed
Winter has left us & now is the summer of autism
screams. The dandelions rock back & forth in
their chairs outside the new flag they put up
drying in the sunlight & I’m lost in a vintage
store with yellow lights yellow brights
yellow mites the color of waiting
in a hospital room of when my grandmother had cancer
& when I will have my breasts removed. Artificial banana
syrup & fertilizer — the smells of my friend’s cat. Chicken poop,
chocolate, childhood where I sit reading the magic school
bus all day & where my favorite book was the manual of infant
illnesses & where I played doctor w my imaginary
friends. Such good patients, they were. I wonder if any
of my toys were self diagnosed too. The council of stuffed
animals have met & discussed your accommodation
request – congratulations! You’ve been branded
one of us. Magnolia bloom & it’s the season I
walk on my tiptoes too – can people who walk with their
entire feet not see the worms drowning in all this
air? After each storm each law each angry face
book post: noli me tangere. Every iamb a promise of not
hurting: I will tread your way. I will (try &) not step
on you. I want to lie the fuck down & I will today.
Come, and I dare you. Step over me too.
Yufan Lu (they/them) is a writer from Beijing, China. They’re a recent graduate of Kenyon College and a current MA student at the University of British Columbia. Their works have been published in HIKA, Lyceum, and Periwinkle Pelican, and will be published in beestung.