A Chinese Fan and the Wind
We commandeered a boat,
then we jumped into the sea and swam
with no end to the water, sank
the boat and flew with no end
to the air.
We were swimming, water, flying,
and air. But we weren’t fishes or birds.
We found a place without
a sea, or air, or boats. Or anything
else. A place that just had us.
And wood. We built a fire
with the wood and filmed it while
it turned to ash and watched to see
if you or I could tell exactly
when it turned.
Previously, I was wood.
This time you were wood
and I was ash.
We climbed a mountain
where it was always windy,
made a Chinese fan and fanned
ourselves in the wind so the wind
could see we were swimming, water, flying,
and air, you the wood and the bird,
and me the fish and the ash.
I was the Chinese fan
and you were the wind.