WHICH IS TO SAY, I AM THE SOFTEST DISASTER
by Nicole Ting
I can’t stop looking at your hands, wondering
what they would feel like around mine. Thrilling
and poetic, probably. Like the body remembers
the soundscape of moonlight. I wonder
what it would be like to know the acoustics
of all your angles. The nomadic songlines
of your palms. Would you let me.
My gaze unruly and swerving,
a riot fixated. Craving a light-drunk intimacy. I want
to release its tenderness from behind my teeth, like the
wine of an overripe lullaby tipped toward a dozing
sky. The midnight screech of car tires out on the road,
a holographic crush of time. A satellite devotion to
direction, this radio signal lighting me in a blood red
glow. A pinpoint of hope rendering everything
beloved. I want to peel it open like a fist, like a spill of
peonies, like sharpened, blazing desire. A new garden
song. Let it come awake.
I’d let you take me apart.
Nicole Ting (she/her) is a Malaysian immigrant poet and content writer residing in Houston, Texas. She earned a B.S. in Petroleum Engineering and a Certificate in Creative Writing from The University of Texas at Austin. Her works have appeared in P.S. I Love You, Thought Catalog, Unvael, Echo Literary Magazine, and Analecta Literary & Arts Journal. She lives with her houseplants, her books, and her trusty espresso machine, and you can find her writing at a local coffee shop on Saturdays. Follow her work on Instagram at @bynicoleting.