Sloan Asakura


Lost City of Atlantis by George Grie

i wore your death like a goose wears its feathers
.                             embedded and seeking to be plucked
the plumeria tucked behind my ear dripped milk down my neck
.           and you were with me even then with the sun casting light
.                             over brown skin, illuminating it to pale and forcing
.                                    dark shadows where i faced away from you

i wore your dress like a man wears his skin
.                             comfortably at first, then writhing for release
the red and white lace eyelets peered into my nakedness
.           how could i fill a place made for someone else someone
.                             more lovely and loved than my empty bag of bones
.                                    i rolled you around in my mouth– a marble
.                                                  pushing the question of tragedy with my tongue

.                                                                                                                               careful not to swallow
.           in the pictures, we are wearing you
.                             with plumerias tucked into bruised black hair
.                                    sun painting us colors we are not
.                                                  and the man behind the camera cries
.                                                              for a girl who may have looked              much like us.


About the writer:
Sloan Asakura is a poet and memoirist originally from Los Angeles, now braving the Pacific Northwest. They have been previously published in Jeopardy Magazine, Rigorous, The Mantle, and Rogue Agent. Asakura is a founder and editor of MAWTH. In their free time, they can be found cooking comfort food, gardening, and contemplating persimmons.

Image: Lost City of Atlantis by George Grie (1962-). Digital image. No technical information specified. By 2014. By free license.