Eunice Kim

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 
              breaks unevenly 
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.