How to Disappear
And every August night, I wish I was anything but daughter: soldier, king, a hometown hero. Barely a carnivore, I scavenged daisies from windowsills; dreamed of the crows pressed to the sky like secrets; one day the dawn will wash away any moth-eaten apologies with the tide. But it’s winter now – so I sleep, limbs crying under the covers; windows wide open.
-Le Wang














