Jasmine Cui

at once I am monolithic and incorporeal

Mother was wúyǔ, they say

I inherited her: nose, ears, lips.

Taut skin, jaundice-colored. Men

mistake affliction for ingots; they say

they are sick

with yellow fever.

Tongue is divination stick,

licking salt runes into

my chest. Confused

mouth calls 1 love,

calls 2 sex. Oceanic,

my chest is full of gunpowder.

I am swollen sea cleaving

self into ions.

Lysis, the body spliced

into multiples to feed

five thousand. All Asian girls

are made of the same: jade,

parasols, rice, stoicism. I want

my own Lucy Liu to split

open like flypaper. Call

my silence willingness

not protest. Call me

没有名称3 not beautiful.

1 melancholy

2 grass

3 nameless

Jasmine Cui is 17 years old and is majoring in political science, economics, and violin performance at SUNY Geneseo. She aspires to be like her parents, first-generation Americans who fought an extraordinary battle for their place in this country. She has received national recognition from the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards. Her work can be found at The Shallow Ends, Glass: a Journal of Poetry, and at www.jasminecui.com.