Earth Angel (excerpt)
Her lips part softly, no sound
Just bubbles floating
over her shoulder
Iridescent reflections rippling out the window through the thin rows of shrubbery up to the sky.
He surveys her, bare shoulders and bangs shrouded figure from afar
Sweet fruit of shy passion
And heavenly liberation.
Child of the Republic (excerpt)
The tipping Queen Anne stood, against the field of identical concrete houses with shingled asphalt tiles for roofs and two windows on either side of the front door, it stood out like a sore thumb drawing the eye to it whenever one was near. The mansion was visibly old, older than the other houses, and its walls were a dark ruby red, although chipped in some spaces, revealing eroding limestone underneath. It looked something like a haunted mansion from a horror story, ideally one that was based in the French countryside, and its piling layers laid sloppily, one on top of the other, so that from afar, looked like a three-tier cake that was falling apart.
But in the backyard, there were miles of vineyard, with the sweetest, plumpest, best grapes in all of Raoyang province, that surged up to the sky, like spinning globes that drooped amongst the broad leaves and thin creepers.
My Los Angeles (excerpt)
My precious city.
Buildings that spring like bamboo shoots, a sun of great compassion, and of great wrath, because it still manages to burn through the exhaust clouds and contamination to bake my skin a deeper yellow and almost set my black hair on fire in the summers.
My Los Angeles, full of sound and silence. The deep, ancient echo of the buddhist temple’s ringing bells that whisper to me their secrets if only you’re willing to listen.
The Millie Diaries (excerpt)
This year has flown by and I didn’t even get the chance to look back at how much I’ve grown. The scuffed sneakers were swapped out for fresh shoes so that I looked down and admired my feet each step that I took.
But only now as I fly back to where it all began, in a small town in suburban Michigan have I turned around, looked back at the footsteps in the sand, and realize how far I've strayed, how much I’ve changed. Of course, it’s only natural to look different- taller, plumper, sadder- but it’s scary to compare and barely be able to recognize yourself.