I feel the gear switch
                      inside the moon.

Touch folded joss paper
           of unburied breath.

I am ready to materialize

           into wrist, lung, ear,
profile whittled from sugar flood.

In a thumb’s rotation,
I hear condolences
                      from the eclipse,

light the hidden storm in my hands.

I leave on the horse,
                      my coral bridge.

Between globe, birth jacket,
           tenant of the flesh,

this is homecoming to a mother
                      who will make me.

Mai Der Vang

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