self portrait in vivo

                                    grass
                                        spills

                                      into sunlight

                                                                      the innermost
                                                                tongue
                                                            of an orchid

           splays in
                        wild
       repose

                                                                                     water
                                                                                            opens to light

                                                                               what to reflect
                                                                                        what to let pass

                                                                     if you don’t
                                                                            see
                                                                     this rainbow
                                                  come around

                            look

                                                                       from
                                     the angle
                                  of my eyes

                                                             if
                                          you
                                              approach
                                                              me
                                                     like sunlight

                                                                                 I could be
                                                                         a grain of sand

                                                                                         lucid
                                                                                               as glass

                                                            if you
                                                     brusque your way
                                                               from a sharp angle

                                                              you might
                                                            find
                                                                 no
                                           entry

                                        leaves
                                       of the mimosa
                                                 fold
                        upon
                             touch

                          hold your palm
                              above
               mine

 there can be warmth
                                                                         you are radiant
                without touch                                          I say

                                                    I harvest
                                                        what I can

                                                                                   show me
                                                                                       the warmth
                                                                                   in you
                                                                                         beyond
                                                                                                               my
                                                                        touch

                                 if
                                    you                                                                  force
                               split
                  me
                                                                                                                begets
                               open
                                                                                                                          fissive
                                                                                                                      force

                                                                      stop
                                                                                before
                                                                  you begin

                                this kindling
                                                   body                 needs no fuse
                                                                                   to light itself
                                                         from within

 

 

 

 

kwongBonnie Wai-Lee Kwong is a poet and playwright who creates in many mediums and languages: English, Cantonese, Mandarin, Japanese, ruby, and javascript. She wrote the poem “self portrait in vivo” after visits to the nanophotonics research group of Jennifer Dionne at Stanford University. Her play Liriope is to be staged at Stanford University as a culmination of her artist’s residency. Her first poetry collection, ravel, was a finalist for the Many Voices Project (New Rivers Press) and the White Pine Press Poetry Prize. Her poetry and fiction have garnered a number of Pushcart nominations.