driving from the middle of nowhere to that city i loved so long ago; he wouldn't know it, but i promised him he'll love it; he was in the front seat of my car, convinced me to stop for drinks; we're parked in front of a gas station at 3am holding blue icees & staring at the stars through the sun roof of the car; then he turned to me and my heart skipped a beat.

we locked eyes & i had never seen a smile so wide and gorgeous i nearly melted in my seat.

that's how i knew this was a dream.

as i am travel bound, / wait for me to come home. /

keep my name in your gardens, / and i’ll keep yours as i roam. /

for as gold is to a flower, / and as luster is to a jade, /

i may be gone now, / but soon, i’ll be back to stay. /

time has helped us, / so now, let us share our pain: /

for all we’ve changed, / the best parts of us remain. /

like the lotus that blooms / in the hardiest of places, /

our love is one crafted / to last through the ages.

#lianhuaslices

dust swirls down from

endless ceilings

canvas hanging like laundry out to

dry and

vertically they plummet

crush me beneath their majesty

but I focus on the shimmer

dust creates dreams

beneath the pools of warm light

olive greens and

romantic shades of pink

and I wait.

drowning in fabric and cheap

paint and heat and

the audience is silent and I am

invisible

only two eyes peering

out from behind the careful rubble

jagged staples

works of art

and she sings.

she sings behind the makeup and

old hats and

blinding lights

to people she will never meet nor see again but

her heart is on the stage

and I am too.

the lights dim to nothing and the floor rumbles

and I wake up from the dream

/sometimes all it takes is staring up at the light bulb riddled sky// pulling through the intersection and seeing the pale moon in the middle of a lilac sky reflecting off the pearly sheen of my windshield & i look to the passenger seat cold and empty/ the cows wander past my car, wide eyes and shaggy fur standing feet from my window and i could/ almost/ reach out and touch them. i want to stop and take a picture but i don’t. their eyes follow me as i drive past. Peach tea and brown rock sugar on marble countertops, knocking along the grain. Choppy waves and bitter rain hit my face. Do you need me? you ask and i say no. But as i walk with tears streaming down my face and wind pulling me into the murky grey waters// i replay you singing /over/ and /over/ and /over/ & when the message finally comes through i stop in the trail & let myself sob, a loud fragile joy breaking through my lips. /maybe things aren’t as great as i’d thought then//

but at least i have you

i. And it all starts like / sometimes you forget to drink water in the morning & then it turns into / you forgot to comb your hair in the morning & then it turns into / you’re eyeing the scissors on the printer for much too long & then it turns into / wishing you never woke up / and it’s like: you don’t look like your dad, not like your mom. you look in the mirror and you are packing your bags and hiding in a motel room with no reflective surfaces & then / you are alone. / & it is not unfamiliar.

ii. and it’s starting to look like it’s ending. / you know? please don’t ask me what that means. / it looks like no, love, but really, how are you? and it’s like / i am a passenger in this body watching myself speedway off the bridge. you’re so sweet, thank you for asking. / it’s like you don’t even like anything about yourself anymore but you still crush wildflowers in your palms and scream at them to sing / i killed the choir! i killed the choir.

iii. it’s starting to look like you know i’ll always be here for you, right? / & then it turns into well, yes, but i’m starting to think the more you know about me the less you’re going to wish you did at all / and it’s like i am always here to catch you fall and i am always stretching myself like elastic in parachutes to be right there for you but i am / reaching terminal velocity, you know? / & i won’t let you ask me what that means. / & it’s not your fault, because i just / can’t cut my thoracic cavity open but oh my God i am falling / and i am falling alone. /

sometimes i forget to ask for help. / kidding. i always am. always do. / i didn’t forget, i just didn’t. / & it’s like: don’t ask me what that means.

iv. and it’s like, do you even like me anymore? was i even a warm presence in the first place? / if you’re going to cut me out in silence, then be over and done with it because holy crap i am battling far too many closet skeletons / to deal with this right now. / i am your friend or i am not. /

v. so sometimes i forget to be alive, and then i think sometimes i forget to let people notice. / not like i ever tell them, i just forget to. / & it’s like: no i don’t. sorry. / & then i’m on the highway again, and i’m looking for heaven, and polaris sends me her butterfly kisses to soothe my aching heels. / & sometimes i forget to look both ways.

I. coral musings

i wonder if the air i breathe is mine

or if stability is the falsified working of a dying seamstress:

masterfully pinned in place

on the surface of glassy earth.

hollow on the inside,

fraying where tight stitches should yield in hard times:

cavities forming in darker frameworks

of a deeper net holding more watery life.

II. the uncollected scrapbook

i, afterbirth of a manifestation,

the greatest beauty to rise from the sea.

she was softness and roses and kisses on young cheeks.

i was the mass of seafoam gathered at her feet.

she is pearl where i am calloused

and i know comparison kills the cat

the way curiosity stabs fledgling dreams but

the irony is a porcelain version of my being

would lose in a heartbeat to a mud clay semblance

of her goodness.

III. whispered realities to the myth

i was not born to die yet my instructions were unclear.

fall in love.

watch them leave as the seas belt low Cs

and their hair grays while mine stays.

grant a wish,

not knowing that fate has other plans so

i unknowingly cast an end upon someone

i would have gifted my deathlessness if only

i could be loved like a mortal.

The two of them almost have swords shoved through their chests, which just goes to say, that Xiu Lihua was absolutely correct in not wanting any other sect cultivators to join their trip.

“Duck!” Xiu Lihua yells, cutting Mengdie across the air in a horizontal swipe. A wave of blue pulses off of her blade in one smooth motion, toppling the line of resentful spirits nearest to her.

Ren Liufang, who had quickly ducked down to avoid Mengdie’s cut, effortlessly springs back up, meeting a corpse’s sword to parry it. She staggers backwards afterwards, pursing her lips. Cheng Bowen, at her back, doesn’t look much better, a bleeding cut ripped across his cheek.

(So it all started like this:

“Hello!” Cheng Bowen had greeted, popping out from behind an array of bushes on the side of the road.

Xiu Lihua, who had peacefully been riding atop a mule, had yelped, nearly falling off. Ren Liufang, walking beside her, looked immensely pained.

Cheng Bowen grinned at the two of them, unfazed. “Off to Zhoucheng?”

“Uhm,” Xiu Lihua said, readjusting herself on her saddle. She cleared her throat, then turned to narrow her eyes at him. “Yeah?”

Ren Liufang blinked at him with a stare that could peel paint off walls. Voice flat, face placid, “What are you doing.”

“Ah, well, it wouldn’t hurt for me to tag along, would it?” Cheng Bowen returned, smiling. He stretched his arms above his head lazily, looking around the road with a hum. “Cheng-zongzhu has the sect headed to Zhoucheng, anyways. I might as well accompany you two for a head start, yeah?”

Xiu Lihua narrowed her eyes even further. Cheng-zongzhu had been...unsettling, to say the least. She liked her about as much as she liked every other sect leader she’d met with, which is to say, not at all. Politicians were so…smarmy. Used so many long, pretentious sentences to say something they could easily say in one.

And as much as Cheng Bowen had seemed like an easygoing enough man, or at least, maybe someone Xiu Lihua wouldn’t mind having a friendly sparring session every once in a while, he’d admitted to being a politician. Sect officials didn’t like Xiu Lihua, no matter how often she tried to literally ignore the fact that they existed. She didn’t expect him to break that trend.

“Unless I am,” Cheng Bowen took on an expression that Xiu Lihua didn’t understand at all. He raised an eyebrow with a seemingly smug grin as he glanced at Ren Liufang, “interrupting something?”

“No,” Ren Liufang had cut in, uncharacteristically quick. Xiu Lihua looked at her, curious at what could possibly ruffle the unflappable Xiong Jinli. Ren Liufang had sighed, exasperation written in the slightest slump of her shoulders. “You are not.”

 “Great!” Cheng Bowen answered, clapping his hands together. He looked between the two of them, eyes bright. “It’s settled, then.”

Xiu Lihua huffed. She tapped her heel against her mule, and it brayed before continuing its steady clop down the dirt road. Ren Liufang wordlessly followed.

“If you wanted to spend time with Ren Liufang,” Xiu Lihua had said, keeping her voice even, despite her irritation. Though--why was she irritated at the prospect of Cheng Bowen being so...jovial...with Ren Liufang? Was it the fact that the two were both sect leader candidates, and she had a particular distaste for the position? She snorted, “all you had to do was say so.”

Ren Liufang maintained her cold silence beside her as she walked. Cheng Bowen had filled in next to her, taking chipper strides on the other side of Ren Liufang. He looked surprised at Xiu Lihua’s comment.

“Spend time?” he asked, looking ever so innocent. “Why, don’t you think it’s better, the three of us, in case trouble comes along?” 

“Trouble,” Xiu Lihua had echoed, huffing slightly to herself. She jostled the reins in her grip lightly, glancing at the stone blue robes Chaeng Bowen wore, a reminder of the sect he represented. “Funny how that works.”)

As it so turned out, they did make it to Zhoucheng without trouble.

It was in Zhoucheng that they did find it.

Or, to be more specific, in a cavern in Zhoucheng. Ren Liufang had followed the trail of the curse marks--or rather, their spiritual energy signature--to the cavern, which had, shocking absolutely no one, Xiu Lihua thought derisively, led them to a horde of resentful spirits.

And it had been fine and dandy, at first! It really did! And though it definitely would have been much better if Xiu Lihua had been by herself, they worked just fine.

They fought--or, well. Xiu Lihua thinks, as she slices through a spirit’s neck, shoving her foot into its chest to send it toppling into five more. She’s fighting. On her own.

And as she looks over--Ren Liufang and Cheng Bowen: they’re fighting together. Where one strikes, the other covers, back to back, like one functioning unit. And there Xiu Lihua stands, making her way on her own. She swallows down the bitter feeling in her throat.  As per usual.

But then--the horde had quickly overwhelmed the two of them--Cheng Bowen losing his balance on a swing, Ren Liufang stuttering at his fall. The mass of bodies moving towards the two blocks Xiu Lihua’s view of them. 

She freezes when she hears Cheng Bowen’s voice, sounding frantic, a yell of, “Xiong Jinli!”

Ren Liufang, Xiu Lihua thinks, wide eyed. The woman could hold her own, certainly, Xiu Lihua had seen, but—the thought of blood staining Ren Liufang’s robes makes Xiu Lihua feel sick.

She scowls, pushing her way through the crowd, swinging Mengdie deliberately with every step, precisely cutting the bodies down. Just--closer to where Ren Liufang--

There’s a rumble from above. Xiu Lihua curses, looking up at the roof of the cavern, and the fragments of rock hanging above on the cave’s roof answer her with a groan.

There are…. white ribbons, lashing against the rock fragments repeatedly like a whip, shaking them. As the rock threatens to collapse onto the ground, Xiu Lihua follows the length of the ribbons.

They lead to a woman, a translucent golden veil over the lower half of her face, billowing crimson robes fanning around her. She stands on a cavern platform somewhere above them, the white ribbons extending from her sleeves. 

As the rocks collapse, finally, huge chunks of the cavern’s roof, they separate a majority of the horde of spirits from the three of them. Xiu Lihua coughs as the dirt of the cave fans out into the air, using the moment to quickly cut down the remaining corpses on their side. Not bothering to look up at the veiled woman, she rushes over to the two of them.

Cheng Bowen has himself propped up against the cavern wall, clutching his chest. When Xiu Lihua looks to him, lips parted, he opens his arms slightly. There’s a dark red patch blooming across the left side of his torso, and when she winces at the sight of it, he waves a hand dismissively, offering a tight smile.

“Hurts,” he rasps, shrugging. Xiu Lihua wonders how much it hurt him to fake such a casual gesture. He looks back at her, again waving a hand, “but I’ll live. It’s not that bad.”

Satisfied, Xiu Lihua looks across the small distance of the cavern floor to Ren Liufang. The woman, despite her usual untouchable composure, is sprawled slightly across the ground, sitting up as she clutches her shoulder.

 “Ren Liufang!” Xiu Lihua yells, rushing over to where the other woman is sitting upright, limbs sprawled over jagged rocks. She drops to her knees in front of her, hands frantically reaching up to grip Ren Liufang’s shoulders.

Ren Liufang looks up at her, eyes wide. Xiu Lihua returns her gaze, incredulous.

 “You’re injured,” Xiu Lihua hisses, jerking her head shakily at the gash running across Ren Liufang’s shoulders.  “Let me see, if it’s…if it’s--”

Ren Liufang just stares at her in silence, looking uncharacteristically bewildered. Xiu Lihua ignores her, leaning forward to inspect Ren Liufang’s shoulder. It’s a deep cut, bleeding too much to be a shallow wound. Xiu Lihua feels her face fall at the sight of it. If the veiled woman hadn’t stepped in, then what would Ren Liufang have done to continue fighting? She draws back.

A cold sense of dread sinks low in Xiu Lihua’s stomach, and it’s--it’s a feeling which she doesn’t know where it comes from. From the prospect of Ren Liufang getting hurt. She tries not dwell on it, but unconsciously, she bunches her own blue robes into her fists. Ren Liufang’s eyes dart to Xiu Lihua’s hands, then back to her face. 

“Xiu Lihua,” Ren Liufang whispers, so low Xiu Lihua barely hears it, eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly.

“You could have died,” Xiu Lihua admits, heart panging at the words, shocked with herself at how much the revelation bothers her. It bothers her. It does.

Ren Liufang says nothing to this, lips parted, as if at a loss for words.

After a few long, awkward moments, Ren Liufang speaks, in an uncharacteristically soothing tone. She wets her lips, and in some uncertain promise, murmurs, “I will be alright.”

Xiu Lihua frowns, eyebrows furrowing. “Alright?” she presses, irritated. Was this woman not as smart as she was said to be? “Ren Liufang, did you hear me? You could have died! What do you take me for?”

Ren Liufang stays silent, and Xiu Lihua snaps at this.

“Don’t--don’t act so shocked that I--that I don’t want to see you dead!” Xiu Lihua throws her hands into the air, not bothering to lower her voice. “Ren Liufang, you idiot! It may have been seven years since we’ve last seen each other, but that doesn’t mean--”

Ren Liufang’s eyes snap to her again, expression shocked. Xiu Lihua’s mouth snaps shut, and she’s sure her own face looks the same.

Because Xiu Lihua had just admitted she knew Ren Liufang. She had just admitted that she knew her, remembered her, after all this time, despite pretending to call her a stranger woman from a sect. 

Great, Xiu Lihua thinks, groaning outwardly as she smacks a face into her palm. She turns away from Ren Liufang, utterly mortified. Today has gone exactly according to plan, if the plan was to mess up possibly everything I could anticipate, and then everything I couldn’t anticipate, too.

“Hey,” Cheng Bowen cuts in. Xiu Lihua turns to him. He clears his throat. “Not to ruin the moment, but we need some sort of a doctor, and,” he gestures to the woman above them, who Xiu Lihua just now bothers to acknowledge.

The veiled woman stands silently, ribbons retracted back into her sleeves. She seems to take a moment to take them in, eyes sweeping over their forms. Then, she sighs, as if exasperated, and points a hand out of the cave.

Xiu Lihua frowns. “Is there a doctor in Zhoucheng?”

The woman nods wordlessly. She delicately lifts a hand, and a yellow canary perches on her finger. It sings a tune, and lifts itself off, flapping its wings until it glides downward to where the three of them stand. 

Confused, Xiu Lihua looks up, but the woman is already gone. She scoffs, incredulous. The canary chirps, then circles in the air, as if beckoning them.

“I think we,” Cheng Bowen starts, voice hoarse. His gaze is stuck on where the woman stood on the ledge. “I think…she’s telling us to follow it.”

❀ ❀ ❀

Xiu Lihua paces back and forth in the room, stopping every now and then to look at the sliding door to see if it will open.

The Shi family’s household had not been far, and as Cheng Bowen had thought, once they’d trekked out of the cavern, the canary had led them along a path until they made their way to the home.

Shi-furen and her son, a young man about Xiu Lihua and Ren Liufang’s age, Shi Jinghui, had taken them in hurriedly. Like they treated wounded cultivators almost every day. And upon entering the house in the late evening, when Cheng Bowen and Ren Liufang were taken to another room to be tended to, they’d left Xiu Lihua to awkwardly pace in one room.

Xiu Lihua now realizes--there are other people, though few, because of fact that night was settling in, also waiting for their loved ones to be cleared by the Shi family’s medical assistance, waiting in the room with her. They all look comfortable. Almost casual, in the way one family pours tea gently into a cup, while another family appeases their crying toddler.

Tapping her foot anxiously, Xiu Lihua looks around. The house seemed nice enough, the floors cleaned, no smears on the walls. A gentle painting of a canary on the wall. Modest, but not without class. She bites the inside of her cheek. What type of people were Shi Jinghui and his mother? 

Turning to the man closest to her in the room, she strides over to him, then taps his shoulder. He looks at her, raising an eyebrow.

Xiu Lihua clears her throat, trying to look as non-threatening as she can. “Hi. You look…familiar with their home.”

The man blinks, then scoffs after a moment. “Yes,” he begins, unimpressed. “They’re the only doctors in the city. We’re all familiar. I’m waiting for my brother--”

“Then you know the Shi family,” Xiu Lihua interrupts, anxious. Shi Jinghui was tending to Ren Liufang. What if he was--untrustworthy? “Are they…Shi Jinghui. What do you know about him?”

“Ah, Shi Jinghui,” the man drawls, and he gives her a crude smirk as he mentions the younger man’s name. Xiu lihua frowns, not at all liking the tone of his voice. He sighs, waving a hand around. “He’s Zhoucheng’s prized little songbird, you know that? Always working here with Shi-furen, dutifully training to be as skilled a doctor as her. Never talks, though, it’s a crime, really! Only answers when spoken to, almost as if shy, which would normally be unbecoming of a man,” 

The man adds that last bit as an afterthought, and then, he leans in closer to Xiu Lihua, as if telling her a secret. She levels him with a deadpan stare, but he continues on, “But the women don’t seem to mind. Even if our Shi Jinghui silently does nothing but walk through the streets, you’d be surprised at how many girls stop to fan themselves as they watch him--why, you know, some even say he’s prettier than--”

“Okay,” Xiu lihua interrupts, having had about enough of this. She cringes. Way too much information. “Thank you for the...absolutely useless words.” 

The man shrugs, unfazed. She sighs.

Xiu Lihua pads over lightly to the sliding doors. None of the other people in the room notice her. She presses her ear to them, and hearing nothing, she pulls them open, looking down the hallway. Her eyes narrow in on the room that she remembers Ren Liufang and Cheng Bowen had been led to. 

As quickly and as subtly as she can, Xiu Lihua shuffles down the hallway. Just as she’s about to fling open the doors of the room, ready to hit the two of them with a “Wow, aren’t we just doing great with trouble, the three of us!” she stops at the sound of humming.

Panicked, she turns the corner, hiding behind the open doors to another room. As the humming grows closer, she peeks her head out ever so slightly. Shi Jinghui walks to Ren Liufang and Cheng Bowen’s doors, carrying something like a mortar and a pestle. Xiu Lihua takes a moment to take him in.

He’s a lean young man, hair neatly settled into one long braid, pale yellow and white robes billowing primly over his figure. The crude man in the waiting room was right--even as Shi Jinghui stood, inspecting the tools in his hands, he seemed--delicate, almost. Soft and subtle in his movements. 

Suddenly, a child comes running down the hallway, crashing into the back of his legs. Shi Jinghui turns around at this. He glances down, surprised written across his features, at the small girl, as she promptly wraps her arms around him. Shi Jinghui lets out a soft laugh, placing a gentle hand on the top of her head.

“A-Duan,” he says, softly, “it’s getting late. You should be on your way home now with your father.” 

The little girl shakes her head, burying her face further into his robes. “Shi-yisheng,” she mumbles, muffled. “I want to stay here.”

Shi Jinghui hums. He crouches down to her eye level. “Sick people stay here, A-Duan,” he answers, voice still ever so quiet. “And Shi-yisheng still has sick people to help. Yes?” The girl nods, and Shi Jinghui finishes, with a warm smile, “I’ll check up on your father tomorrow. We can see each other then. Alright? Go home, now, Xiao-Duan.”

She nods again at that, and enthusiastic to follow his wishes, she turns and runs in the opposite direction back down the hall. Shi Jinghui watches her go quietly, the traces of a fond smile still on his face. Then, he says “Xiu-guniang, you are welcome to check in on them with me.”

Xiu Lihua freezes. Startled, she awkwardly steps out from behind the door, like a child that’s been caught misbehaving.

Not bothering to wait for her, Shi Jinghui opens the sliding doors and steps into the room. Xiu Lihua scrambles to follow him.

There, seated comfortably against the wall, is Ren Liufang, looking at the floor with an absent expression. There’s the slightest glimpse of bandages around her shoulder and collarbone peeking out from under her robes. Cheng Bowen lies on his back, looking chipper as he stares at the painting of a boar on the wall.

“Oh, Xiu Lihua!” he greets, as Shi Jinghui silently comes to the man’s side, kneeling down. Cheng Bowen nods to the painting. “I was just saying--looks kinda like Xiong Jinli, right?”

Xiu Lihua lets out a small laugh as the tension in her body slowly seeps out at the sight of the two of them. Cheng Bowen squirms around at this, pleased. Shi Jinghui places a hand on his chest, and in a voice much more cold and clinical than Xiu Lihua had heard earlier, says, “Cheng-gongzi, you’re upsetting your bandages. Please stay still.”

Cheng Bowen seems unfazed at the tone, stopping his movements as Shi Jinghui carefully peels open the front of his robes to expose the bandages on his chest. Xiu Lihua, though, frowns at the change in demeanor. For what she’d seen, and apparently heard, Shi Jinghui seemed like a passive, but warm young man. And though he was obviously doing his best to help the three of them, he seemed to shift completely in demeanor, taking on a much more detached and cold face. 

“Hey, the woman back at the cavern,” Cheng Bowen continues, because he really apparently cannot stop talking, “she was pretty, right?”

Ren Liufang ignores him, staring at the wall, and Xiu Lihua tries not to look at her. Out of the corner of her eye, Shi Jinghui, from where he grinds yarrow with his mortar and pestle, stills. 

Xiu Lihua hums, thinking back to the moment. “I--suppose? She wore dark crimson robes, so maybe she was...some sect cultivator doing us a favor.”

“But she had no sword,” Cheng Bowen answers.

Ren Liufang, finally speaking up, adds, “I didn’t recognize the robes she wore belonging to any sect. Not any sect that is an ally of the Ren or the Cheng sect, at least, so perhaps--”

“She may have just been someone who doesn’t particularly care for sect politics, then,” Shi Jinghui interrupts, not looking up from where he’s grinding his poultice. His voice is quiet, but it’s absolutely frigid. “The veiled woman is a local tale of Zhoucheng. It’s likely that she’s probably some benevolent spirit, rather than a cultivator.” 

The three of them go quiet. Shi Jinghui, noticing the awkward pause in the conversation, seems to catch himself. He sighs, hands stilling with the pestle.

“My apologies,” he says, reserved. “It’s foolish of a doctor to make any commentary about the sorts.”

He wordlessly continues applying the poultice to Cheng Bowen’s chest. Xiu Lihua raises an eyebrow, and she can tell Ren Liufang notices Shi Jinghui’s touchiness at...some topic, with the way the woman narrows her eyes ever so slightly. The sliding doors to the room open again.

Xiu Lihua looks behind her to see Shi-furen enter the room, and she gives a polite bow of the head to the woman in greeting. Shi Jinghui rises, then walks across the room to stand behind his mother, eyes fixed passively on the ground.

“I see my son took good care of you,” Shi-furen greets, a warm smile on her face.

Ren Liufang nods graciously, and ever one for courtesy, answers, “We cannot thank you enough for your hospitality.”

Cheng Bowen nods in agreement. Xiu Lihua keeps her eyes narrowed on Shi Jinghui.

Shi-furen waves a hand amiably, shaking her head. “Of course. We are always grateful to help any noble cultivator injured over the course of their cause.”

Xiu Lihua almost laughs at the irony, because she was actually not quite exactly awarded the title of Zaihuanü because she was considered by the sects to be a noble cultivator, but instead, her gaze fixes on the way Shi Jinghui seems to stiffen at this.

Shi-furen continues, “You came from the caverns, yes? My son and his brother used to explore them all day when they were boys. I’m sure he would certainly be of help as a guide.”

Shi Jinghui looks up at this, eyebrow knitting together. Ren Liufang looks hesitant, as she starts, “That would be…”

“Great!” Cheng Bowen cuts in, beaming innocently. He glances at Shi Jinghui. “If Shi-yisheng would be so obliged, of course.”

Shi Jinghui’s mouth turns slightly downwards, ever so subtly. He looks to his mother reluctantly. Shi-furen looks back at her son, an eyebrow raised. After a few moments, quiet, where there’s no doubt a wordless conversation being shared between the two of them, Shi-furen turns back to three of them with a smile. “It’s settled, then. Shi Li will accompany you to the caverns tomorrow morning. For tonight, there’s an inn, just down the road. You three should get some rest.”

Cheng Bowen nods, dutifully, because really, what else is there to say to the woman? Ren Liufang sighs, looking tired, despite her usual pristine image. But Xiu Lihua, eyes narrowed in on Shi Jinghui, notices the frown etched onto his face.

Ah, she thinks to herself, sighing deeply. What a day.

❀ ❀ ❀

Because Xiu Lihua was literally the luckiest person in the world, (which was not very lucky at all!) the inn ended up only having two rooms available for the night. 

The innkeeper at the counter had apologized to Ren Liufang profusely with a pitiful “Forgive this lowly one, Xiong Jinli!” that had Xiu Lihua snorting, while he’d promptly pretended that Xiu Lihua did not exist in the room.

Logically, it followed that Ren Liufang and Xiu Lihua would share one room, while Cheng Bowen was off to his own devices in the other.

Xiu Lihua took the time to herself to sit in the tub so graciously provided for them in the washroom of their room, relishing in the near-scalding hot water, and most definitely not staring at her knees and thinking about what to say.

“I spilled some water,” Xiu Lihua greets as she steps out of the washroom, sleep robes clinging slightly to her damp skin. She tosses her wet hair over her shoulder awkwardly when Ren Liufang doesn’t reply. The other woman seems to be...staring at...a water droplet? On Xiu Lihua’s chin? Neck?

“Ren Liufang,” Xiu Lihua repeats, a tad confused at the woman’s daze. Ren Liufang’s gaze snaps back to her eyes, blinking herself out of her trance. Xiu Lihua tilts her head.

“What? Do I have something on me?”

Ren Liufang is silent for a few moments, holding her gaze. She shakes her head tersely.

“There is only,” Ren Liufang finally says, and the woman slowly pats the bed she’s sitting so neatly on, “one bed.”

Xiu Lihua blinks, slow.

She’s suddenly sent into a coughing fit. Her face feels warm, though, maybe it’s the warmth of the bath. She clears her throat, trying to look nonchalant. “We’re both... formidable, strong cultivators, aha, I’m sure we’ll be just as replenished tomorrow morning, even despite sharing a bed.”

Ren Liufang slowly nods. Xiu Lihua doesn’t waste any time scrambling onto the bed, depositing herself on her side next to Ren Liufang, with her back to the other woman. She can feel how Ren Liufang tenses from where the other woman sits.

It’s quiet, then. Uncomfortably so. The only sounds in the room are from the buzz of the night, a cricket song resonating through the room’s window. The candle on Ren Liufang’s side of the bed dimly lights the room, casting shadows upon the wooden walls.

Xiu Lihua has to say something. She does. After today, after admitting she remembered Ren Liufang, there’s things they need to say. Maybe it’s the sleep-drunkenness descending upon her, but… 

“I wish you’d asked me to stay,” she begins, voice barely above a whisper. Ren Liufang tenses even more from behind her, and Xiu Lihua is suddenly glad that she’s lying on her side, facing away from the other woman. “Not because you owed it to me, or because you pitied me, but because you...because you loved me, as your closest friend. And I loved you, Ren J—Ren Liufang. But I was young when I left, and I hated you for so long. And then I grew older, and I couldn’t think of that anymore.”

Ren Liufang is deathly silent. Xiu Lihua squeezes her eyes shut, mustering up the courage to continue on. She hasn’t been this honest with anyone in years. It feels like she’s skinning herself raw. “Because—I had to get stronger. I had Mengdie, I--I earned Mengdie. You’ve seen the thing, right? The sects didn’t like that. The sects didn’t like me. The Ren Sect didn’t like me. And I spent this whole time, alone, all this blood, sweat, tears, and I thought I could finally live without seeing your stupid, perfect face ever again.”

Mengdie stands, propped against the wall, like some sort of odd reminder. Xiu Lihua knows the sects talk about Mengdie’s strength, and how Zaihuanü must have gained the blade using some sort of dark arts. She wonders, now, if Ren Liufang agrees with them. She’d seen how Xiu Lihua had felt pain whenever the corpses had grasped at Mengdie, and the other woman wasn’t stupid--she must have pieced together by now that Xiu Lihua had linked a piece of her soul together with her sword, using some unconventional technique.

She wonders what Ren Liufang thinks of this.

“And now, you’re up to be the Ren Sect leader. How funny,” Xiu Lihua continues. “I didn’t know you had it in you. I was shocked, because you--you weren’t like that at all, when I left. But I...you must have been ashamed of me. I went off the noble, respectable path, right? Just like your people say. I must have been the dirt stain in your past. And I hated you for that. I hated you for not asking me to stay.”

“But I don’t need you anymore. I can do it all on my own. I can protect people like I always wanted to. I can be strong, on my own, protect the people weaker than me. And I will, so long as I live. So I suppose I don’t have regrets.”

There’s a deafening silence in the room. Xiu Lihua can’t even hear Ren Liufang breathe. She twists the bed sheets under her hands, nervous.

“We should sleep,” Ren Liufang murmurs, after a long few moments. Xiu Lihua snorts, much too tired to retort as sleep weighs heavy on her eyelids. Her chest feels…lighter, somehow. Even if she and Ren Liufang were bound for entirely different paths, they didn’t have to part on such uncertain terms. Maybe this was the best Xiu Lihua could hope for.

And as she feels Ren Liufang shift behind her, leaning over to blow out the candle, Xiu Lihua closes her eyes. For so many years, she’s slept in so many different inns, but each time, she’s been alone. Tonight is similar, but different, in too many ways. Sleep takes her over.

❀ ❀ ❀

12 years ago, in the past

Xiu Lihua: 11 years of age

“Shhh! Hey, what did I tell you? You have to be quiet if this is going to be a real surprise!”

Xiu Lihua wrestles with the stray puppy in her grip, giggling as it nips at her wrist. She excitedly runs her hands all over its fur, ignoring the flea bites and ticks matting certain parts of its body, lovingly making kissing noises at its snout.

She has them seated, hidden in the red spider lily garden that the Ren Sect has in their training grounds. The flowers conceal them expertly, except Xiu Lihua’s silly little dog that she’d just found on the street kept barking and blowing their cover.

Once Xiu Lihua has offered her hand for the puppy to gnaw on, quieting its yips, she peers through the flowers.

For years now, since Ren Mingshou and the other sect elders didn’t allow her to learn sword fighting with the other disciples, she’d come to the spider lilies, hiding behind the petals, in a desperate effort to learn by watching the others. If she couldn’t participate in real life with the teachers, the least she could do was observe and hope to learn that way.

Gleefully, a particular disciple catches her eye. The girl’s red robes sway around her, and Xiu Lihua watches excitedly as she lunges at her sparring partner, watching the way she purposefully shifts her back foot forward. Then, Xiu Lihua cringes as the girl is quickly toppled by her opponent. She sighs.

“That’s my best friend, Ren Ju, got it?” Xiu Lihua whispers to the dog, who ignores her, still chewing on her hand. “She’s been really sad lately, since her parents are sick, so you’re going to be really good, okay? I know you’ll cheer her up if you just...put some effort into it. Are we clear?”

The dog stops, looking up at her with big, pleading eyes. It barks.

“Awesome!” Xiu Lihua squeals, petting the dog as a reward. Then, she sticks a hand out of the garden, waving it around excitedly. She smiles when she sees Ren Liufang’s eyes catch on her, and the other girl smiles slightly, excusing herself from her partner to run over to the spider lilies.

Ren Liufang laughs lightly as she enters into the lily garden, crouching down to sit beside Xiu Lihua. She slides her blunted sword into its sheath.

Ren Liufang smiles at the sight of them, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Xiu Ying, who’s this?”

“No clue!” Xiu Lihua answers, though she just wants to reach over and pinch Ren Liufang’s cheeks to scare her worries away. “He hasn’t told me his name yet. Do you think he’s cute?”

“He is cute. Where did you get him?”

Xiu Lihua shrugs, picking the puppy up gently with both hands and depositing him onto Ren Liufang’s lap. “I must have ran through all of Tianan Ren to find him, Ren Ju. It was seriously a chore.”

Ren Liufang pets his fur, but she frowns at her friend. “You...ran around Tianan looking for a dog?”

“Oh! Nope, haha,” Xiu Lihua clarifies, suddenly bashful as she scratches the back of her head. “I mean, I was running around Tianan to look for some flowers, but then I found him, and he got lost, and then I had to find him again, because he looked hungry and some bigger dogs were fighting with him…”

“Flowers?”

Xiu Lihua smiles, then. She reaches behind her, then pulls out a circlet of red wildflowers that she’d braided for Ren Liufang. It’s a thing they’ve been doing since they were younger, really: Xiu Lihua would braid together flowers for Ren Liufang to loop delicately around her ear, and Ren Liufang would make something undoubtedly more neat and put together for Xiu Lihua.

Ren Liufang frowns. “Xiu Ying…”

“I know, I know, I shouldn’t have snuck out again, with what happened last time,” Xiu Lihua admits, sighing. She looks back at her friend, touching her fingertips together, face warm. “But I...you’ve been really sad, lately, because of your parents. I just thought some different flowers and maybe a new friend would cheer you up, even just for a little.”

Ren Liufang smiles at that, and it’s not completely free of sadness, but it’s genuine, this time. She leans forward to pull her friend into an embrace, and Xiu Lihua laughs, returning it by squeezing the other girl’s shoulders.

“You can lean on me, you know that, right?” Xiu Lihua says. “Like that time we were playing out by the market--”

“That was a disaster, Xiu Ying.”

“--but it was fun! Ren Ju, whenever you ask me to, I promise I’ll stay. Right by your side, if you ever need me. All you have to do is ask. Got it?”

She feels Ren Liufang swallow thickly. “Yes. Thank you, Xiu Ying.”

“Awesome!” Xiu Lihua pulls back, placing her hands on her friend’s shoulder. “Okay, so I was thinking, maybe you should name the puppy! Maybe something like--”

“What is this?”

Xiu Lihua freezes. Ren Liufang goes stiff, too. Xiu Lihua turns to her side, up at the looming figure standing over them. They both scramble to their feet.

Ren Mingshou narrows his eyes down at the two of them. His displeasure is etched across his face in the ever so controlled downturn of his mouth. Xiu Lihua fidgets in place.

“Xiu Lihua,” he begins, voice deceptively neutral. “So it wasn’t enough for you to be causing trouble on your own? You had to bring other disciples with you, too?”

Ren Liufang is frozen in place, her eyes fixed to the ground. Xiu Lihua shakes her head, looking up wide eyed at him. “No, Shizun, I didn’t-- it was just m--”

“Do you ever think about anyone except yourself, Xiu Lihua?” Ren Mingshou asks, voice clipped. She flinches, eyes snapping back down to the ground. “And you’ve brought a rabid dog into the sect, too. There really is no way to predict what problems you’ll cause, is there?”

The puppy snarls, yipping around Xiu Lihua’s feet, baring its teeth at Ren Mingshou. 

“How fitting,” the tall man murmurs, not at all fazed by the way the dog seems to be getting angrier by the second. “Let this be a lesson, Ren Liufang, Xiu Lihua. Animals that cannot be controlled--”

In the blink of an eye, the puppy’s yipping suddenly ceases. Xiu Lihua looks up, and Ren Mingshou has his sword unsheathed, his blade running through the small dog’s body. She hears Ren Liufang whimper next to her. Xiu Lihua does her best not to make a sound, biting her lip so hard it bleeds.

“--are taken care of,” Ren Mingshou finishes, pulling his sword out of the dog’s body. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Now, I want--”

“Shizun,” a calm voice interrupts. Ren Mingshou stops, turning to his side to address the person.

Ren Ronghu stands tall next to them, body bowed graciously in greeting. He stands. “This humble one apologizes for interrupting.”

“Whatever matter you came to tell me must be important,” Ren Mingshou answers simply, in a tone that implied that it had better be important. 

Ren Ronghu nods his head, long ponytail swaying gracefully with the movement. “The sect elders are requesting your presence in the East Quarters for help with paperwork. It seemed to be an urgent affair.”

Ren Mingshou huffs. He turns back to Xiu Lihua, looking at her reproachfully. She shrinks into herself. “Alright. Luckily, I was not dealing with anything important, so I’ll be there soon. Thank you, Ren Ronghu.”

Ren Ronghu nods delicately. Ren Mingshou turns away, sweeping off out of the garden in the other direction.

“A-Ying,” Ren Ronghu greets warmly, and Xiu Lihua’s shoulders slump in relief. “A-Ju. You’re lucky I was passing by.”

“Shixiong,” Xiu Lihua breathes, and Ren Liufang sighs, looking immensely less stiff. “I thought you wouldn’t be back until tomorrow!”

Ren Ronghu, who is five years Xiu Lihua’s senior, but still treats her as kindly as he does everyone else, answers with a slight smile. The pink scar running horizontally across his face does nothing to make him seem any less gentle. “The night hunt went well. We ended up catching the beast much more easily than expected.”

“And Shizun…” Ren Liufang asks, voice quieter than before.

“Actually, the elders requested Shizun’s presence in the West Quarters,” Ren Ronghu shrugs, smiling slyly. Xiu Lihua beams up at him. He’s always been ever so smart, exactly what the Ren Sect expected their disciples to age to be. Respectable, cunning, orderly and neat. “But I’m sure the paperwork being tended to in the East Quarters will take him quite some time. In any case, it will be a long while until he has the time to return to discipline you two, so much time that I’m sure we’ll all be asleep by then.”

“Thank you, xiong,” Xiu Lihua answers, swallowing down the lump in her throat. Ren Liufang echoes her thanks in a quiet voice. Xiu Lihua fiddles with her thumbs. “I just--I wish I knew...what my father had done, before my parents had passed. Before the Ren Sect had found me.”

Ren Ronghu’s smile drops, just for a moment. Or maybe Xiu Lihua had imagined it, because she looks back at him, and his smile is fixed in place the same as ever. “Why is that?”

“Shizun always says that the Ren Sect found me as an infant,” Xiu Lihua explains, and Ren Liufang puts a comforting hand on her shoulder. She sighs. “But sometimes, he says that maybe, I’ve taken after my father, and--”

“Your family name,” Ren Ronghu cuts in, voice strange, “is how you should remember your father. Your parents died in a boating accident, as Shizun tells you, and we found you. Honor your father’s memory accordingly. Living as his daughter, as a Ren Sect disciple.”

“Right, xiong,” Xiu Lihua answers, but the words feel empty. As if sensing her unease, Ren Liufang slips her hand into Xiu Lihua’s. Xiu Lihua twines their fingers together. “I will.”

❀ ❀ ❀

Present day

Xiu Lihua: 23 years of age

Xiu Lihua’s eyes flutter open, and despite how gentle the morning light across her face greets her, it’s very, very clear that something is wrong.

Mostly because, as she comes to, mind slowly clearing itself from the blissful sleep-obliviousness, she releases that the pillow is not under her head. Rather, a warm chest is. And her arms and legs are tangled with more arms and legs, all of which culminates to—

Xiu Lihua screams, flinging herself across the bed. She ends up toppling much too far, tumbling off the covers and onto the ground with a thud. 

I just woke up hugging Ren Liufang, Xiu Lihua thinks, frantic and dazed, face absolutely burning. I just! Woke up! Hugging Ren Liufang!

In possibly the most mortifying moment of her life, Xiu Lihua swallows, peeking up over the edge of the bed. Ren Liufang looks—dead, actually. Limbs stiff as a corpse as she stares at the ceiling. Xiu Lihua winces, feeling the same way.

“I—I’m so sorry, I’m just going to,” Xiu Lihua stammers, positively tripping over her words. She stands up, hurrying across the room to grab Mengdie and her usual robes, absolutely refusing to meet Ren Liufang’s eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t—I’m going to go head out, I—”

Ren Liufang vaguely nods. Xiu Lihua takes the opportunity to bolt out the door, possibly faster than she’s ever run.

❀ ❀ ❀

Shi Jinghui, not unlike the previous day, is still unusually icy with them, as the four of them walk in silence through the caverns.

Even before the moments he’d taken them through the caverns, he’d smiled gently with patients, kindly telling an old woman that he’d bring her soup later, patting a young teen encouragingly on the head. But with the three of them, he’s been quiet thus far, overly formal. Xiu Lihua bites her tongue.

“It’s here,” Ren Liufang announces, and the four of them draw to a stop. A chasm separates the ledge of the cavern that they’re on from the other ledge, where a deeper pocket of the cave is pitch black. “The resentful energy spirit signature is strongest here.”

“Well, thanks to Shi-yisheng, we didn’t have to deal with any trouble to get to it this time,” Cheng Bowen adds cheerfully, looking to Shi Jinghui. Shi Jinghui promptly ignores him, raising the lantern in his hand. The light barely reaches across the chasm.

“It must be the origin, then,” Xiu Lihua reasons. Ren Liufang nods. The other woman unsheathes Honglei, using her sword to drift across the chasm. Xiu Lihua follows her, taking a few steps back to get a running start, pushing off the ledge to leap all the way across.

Xiu Lihua turns around, where Cheng Bowen and Shi Jinghui remain on the ledge. Shi Jinghui looks incredulous.

Xiu Lihua tilts her head. “What are you waiting for?”

Shi Jinghui gapes at her for a few moments. Then, he returns back, in a yell, as his voice echoes across the chasm, “A couple of things! Sort of like the fact that, you know, there’s another way around?”

“That’ll take too long!”

“Ah, yes, my apologies,” Shi Jinghui answers, sardonic, “that I cannot jump across entire chasms. Perhaps I should have prepared for that, maybe dressed accordingly if I knew today was a cliff jumping sort of--”

Cheng Bowen suddenly scoops him up in a bridal hold, unsheathing his sword in the same motion, and using it similarly to glide across the chasm. Ren Liufang raises an eyebrow when he lands on their side with a thump next to her.

Shi Jinghui stares at him in shock before promptly stuttering and jumping out of his arms. Cheng Bowen maintains his easy grin, nonplussed. Ren Liufang has already turned around to examine the dark marks across the jagged walls, etched like ink across the rough stone. Xiu Lihua follows her, leaving the two men to their own devices.

Ren Liufang frowns, before reaching out to pluck a talisman off the wall. Xiu Lihua frowns.

“Reactivates the curse marks,” Ren Liufang states, examining the characters scrawled across it.

Xiu Lihua peers over her shoulder, squinting at the paper. Ren Liufang stiffens for a moment, but Xiu Lihua thinks it must be because of the cave dust, so she says, “This all is...this is all the work of another person, then.”

“Someone’s orchestrating this?” Cheng Bowen cuts in, having walked up to the two of them.

Ren Liufang looks grim, mouth pressed into a thin line. “It appears so.”

Xiu Lihua scoffs. “What kind of coward uses the dead, much less victims of curse marks?”

Ren Liufang’s expression turns stormier at that. She curls the talisman up in her fist, a troubled gesture that Xiu Lihua recognizes from their childhood.

Xiu Lihua frowns. “Ren Liufang?”

The other woman spins on her heel, white robes fanning out around her. “I have business to attend elsewhere in Zhoucheng.”

“Business?” Cheng Bowen repeats, puzzled. 

“Ren Liufang,” Xiu Lihua snaps, irritated at her cryptic behavior. “The three of us are supposed to--”

But Ren Liufang has already unsheathed Honglei, using the sword to head back across the chasm swiftly. Once she’s on the other side, the other woman leaves them behind, retracing their path to no doubt trek out of the caverns.

“--stay,” Xiu Lihua finishes, dejected, staring at her retreating form, “together.”

She looks to Cheng Bowen and Shi Jinghui, who look just as startled.

“Whenever she’s done with...whatever, I know where she might be,” Xiu Lihua says, determined, turning to Shi Jinghui. “Can you take us back to the inn?”

❀ ❀ ❀

Xiu Lihua huffs, marching up to their shared inn room from last night. They hadn’t checked out of their rooms with the innkeeper just yet, anticipating more days to come of investigating Zhoucheng. If there was a place for Ren Liufang to return to after “business,” it was at the inn room.

Xiu Lihua slides open the door to the room without greeting, half expecting her instincts to be wrong, to be greeted with an empty room. Cheng Bowen and Shi Jinghui follow behind her.

But Ren Liufang, she is--standing in front of a man, who is tied haphazardly to a chair. He looks worse for wear, sweat matting his scraggly hair to his face, rope burns marring his forearms. Ren Liufang turns to them, eyes wide.

Xiu Lihua’s eyes flit to the raised sword in Ren Liufang’s hand. Unthinkingly, she pushes herself forward, unsheathing Mengdie in the same motion to clash with Ren Liufang’s blade, taking a stance between Ren Liufang and the man.

“The hell are you doing?” Xiu Lihua demands, equal parts shocked and infuriated. If Ren Liufang was settling some type of score with this man, she could have--could have told the truth!

Ren Liufang meets her gaze, something wild in the look she gives Xiu Lihua. The other woman pushes on her blade, and Xiu Lihua grunts, matching her strength with her own sword.

“Get out of my way,” Ren Liufang answers, clipped.

“Is this like you?” Xiu Lihua snaps back, head jerking to gesture behind her, towards the man in the chair. Out of the corner of her eyes, a white ribbon shoots out, tugging the entire chair past her and out from behind Xiu Lihua, towards the doorway where Cheng Bowen and Shi Jinghui stand. “Going around and hurting the common people in the name of business for the Ren Sect?”

Ren Liufang inhales, and Xiu Lihua doesn’t break their eye contact. Finally, after a few moments, realizing that her opportunity was gone, Ren Liufang lowers her sword. Xiu Lihua exhales, doing the same.

Xiu Lihua looks to the doorway and sees the man behind Shi Jinghui, who stands in front of the man protectively, a frown etched deep onto his face. Cheng Bowen holds an unreadable expression besides him.

Xiu Lihua turns back to glower at Ren Liufang, who returns her gaze with an equally unyielding stare. Xiu Lihua clenches her fists. Things were never simple between them, were they?

Ren Liufang wordlessly breezes out of the room, pushing past Shi Jinghui and Cheng Bowen.

Xiu Lihua scoffs, not bothering to watch her leave.

Footnotes/Terms:

The previous chapter, Chapter Four: On Festivals and Sect Leader Candidates: https://theprose.com/post/390520/chapter-four-on-festivals-and-sect-leader-candidates

The next chapter, Chapter Six: Of Voices and Past Ghosts:

https://theprose.com/post/397790/chapter-6-of-voices-and-past-ghosts

Tianan: The area of land that the Ren Sect controls. Thus, referred to as Tianan Ren.

Shizun: master, teacher

Zaihuanü: Xiu Lihua’s moniker, means “disaster flower maiden/girl.” Just like Ren Liufang’s is “Xiong Jinli”, meaning “vicious koi.”

“A-Ying” and “A-Ju”: Used by Ren Ronghu to affectionately refer to Xiu Lihua and Ren Liufang.

Suffixes:

-zongzhu: Suffix used to refer to a sect leader.

-furen: Suffix used to refer to a married woman.

-yisheng: Suffix used to refer to a doctor.

-guniang: used to refer to a young woman.

-gongzi: used to refer to a young man.

-xiong (shixiong): used to address a martial older brother, aka an older male in your sect.

#lianhua

I like how she stands with her back to the sun                     and she cuts her hair short

                      and dyes it but says it’s just self expression, not feelings.

I like how she thinks she can fool me               I like how she thinks she can lie without repercussion.

And of course I know she’s upset, says she’ll likely sever ties with every stranger she sees, but

when my best friend Riley gets sad sometimes I know that they’re who she crawls back to.

Her mind weaves itself like strings entwined in a mess, necklace chains cause she’s messy,

               earbud cords cause she doesn’t have money,                and

                I like that.

My best friend Riley only wants to be great when nobody’s looking, she only sings when the party’s died down, she only dreams when she’s sleeping.   

My best friend Riley writes things and then shreds them.

 My best friend Riley paints pictures and then scrubs the canvas,

   My best friend Riley gets sad sometimes, and you know--

                     she drives me to the brink of insanity.

I’ll listen to one song all the way home, it’ll probably be a slow one that talks about safety.

 I like when she picks the music and tells me she’ll sing these songs to my children one day.

And her voice isn’t very distinct, not at all,      but it makes babies happy      it gets the job done.

I like when she closes her eyes at the sun

I like when they fill and she gulps them away

        I like when she corrects teachers’ word choice and can speak up in crowds.

My best friend Riley gets sad sometimes and can’t use all those words to say it, but 

I wonder if I’d hear her if she said so out loud.

Her voice isn’t very distinct, not at all          but it’s read things and said things

and held and freed feelings.

   It rises and falls with the turn of the tides--nondescript.

But she’s my best friend,

             and I like how it gets the job done.

the lover's state frozen to the bone,

iced pane nails frigidly fake scrap the

skin of a friend. but hypocrisy slips

through and barely managed to hold,

wraps a scarf around the neck that

filter through the life flying around you;

but scarves are not made of cruel naive

conceptional beings, nor do they suffocate

you; but these ones do. she calls it,

the city's perfume; lungs are choking, they

collapse inside the cadaver that shouldn't

be fighting for life but yet, you do.

and for once in a life time the paper peels

itself back an. the universe asks,

when does eternity turn into pleasantry?

but fate refuses humanity and one's willing

fears the crown that litters the bloody ground.

expectation in two words-easy: no answer,

reality, its in three but the last keeps silently.

so midnight crashes on the couch and

drinks are thrown down; light sways her hips

away and youth stumbles off after them;

only one left in the house to rearrange 

the mess and call it cleaning it. but instead,

you're suffocating on the city's perfume,

never will your organs accept it. damn it.