IV. 看花容易繡花難

by Enya Huang

I tell myself to let past whispers go but they

Linger the way smoke

Clings to clothing long after I

Stumble out of the casino with a heavy wallet and a

Heavier heart

Smoke is a sly thing

Seemingly ephemeral, invisible by all accounts

It stays past its welcome and beyond all memory

Years later I grab a coat off the rack

Still a whiff of cigarettes, the source long forgotten

Years later I see the hint of a smile

Still an ache in my chest

You’d think I could let go of these memories by now

Long-wilted petals the only remnants of a vibrant bloom

Instead the scent of their blossoms stays in my nostrils

Their silhouettes stay etched across my bones

Stranded together with threads of blood still not dry

The daintiest needlepoint, the finest ivorywork

Traces still visible after centuries of being forgotten

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