A moth-green pond

It is not blood-free
Ruins of quiet flesh
coughing out
puddles of decay
Under the skin
a mild electric shot
spreading the silent noise
of a womb
into the tunnel of wind
vanished in red

In the time of pooled sweat
the tail of summer
dive deep under the
moth-green pond
Layers of foam
paved a new land
onto the leftover breeze

An age of greeting and departing,
encounters —
faces and voices from afar
to here, and afar again
and when we meet
it shall be a new spring

From the artist: I wrote this piece near the end of summer, as I became aware of time quietly passing over people and moments that feel ordinary to me. This poem is also a dedication to a moth-green pond that accompanies many of my daily walks.

QiNan is a bilingual queer writer, poet, and content creator. They write a weekly blog documenting their journey in science, with entries self-published in Chinese. Over the years, their writing has evolved from prose to poetry, and their work has been featured in The Apothecary.