The trees glowed in water

I had half an ice arm

I waved at the sun for warmth and connection

This melting chandelier of mine

A fever grew from my ankles up

A planet fell out of my mouth

My organs bloomed, parachutes in the night

Snowbells rang along my teeth

My verbs were all in disagreement

Swallowed up in the turbulence

In the rotten rumble of boiling eggs

I held the cold along the eyelashes of cows

I held my rosehip head, splitting in two

To remain perpetually aware

A feather suspended itself in air

The fish sitting too long in the sun melted

Into a sea, cell after cell

My prized imperatives, my root words: gone

Long live the day

Jane Wong is the recipient of fellowships and scholarships from the U.S. Fulbright Program, the Bread Loaf Writers' Conference, and the Fine Arts Work Center. Poems have appeared in journals and anthologies such as CutBank, Octopus, Hayden's Ferry Review, The Volta, Best New Poets 2012, and The Arcadia Project: North American Postmodern Pastoral. She holds a MFA from the University of Iowa and teaches literature at the University of Washington. Her most recent chapbook is Kudzu Does Not Stop.