Itinerary of Speech
I am rooted, but I flow —Virginia Woolf
The tree warped by wind is made
of wood, despite another tongue
in mind. Across the river, afraid
of touch like unexfoliated elbows,
egrets. Everything they love folds
into one mouthful. So does what
I love, nestled between molars.
The horizon is locked in the denture
of space bisected by the teeth
of our eyes. Sunset a scar outgrowing
its share of scars. The misshapen tree
that rattles its shadow on windless days
is made of wood, still. There’s nothing
sad in the tree’s script about genitalia
save our attachment. Or about
the waterborne moon that brings
to mind a milk tooth or the kneecap
of a drowning woman, rapids
fiddling with the strings of her hair,
as would a breeze. The tree will
continue to lose its voice by the volume
of leaves shed. Skulls, teeth.
Inconsequential Is the Name of Everything
through the spokes
of sunrise a sun rises
hollered at centuries
long—stride over, frayed
mind, in 9pm light
—eventful pores we are
what else are we
something like bed
inchoate in daylight
(against) what’s outside
growing softer
(sandpaper) and softer still
Suphil Lee Park was born and grew up in South Korea. She holds a BA in English from NYU and an MFA in Poetry from the University of Texas at Austin. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Bennington Review, Colorado Review, jubilat, Ploughshares, and The Malahat Review, among others.