You can find me in the body you seek to hate.
Perched on a windowsill, pressed up against
alluvial glass. The sky is never as sublime
or wretched as it is here. The air: always a stutter,
a question. I think this house is a bit of a Romantic.
Even the walls try to embrace themselves.
You can find me tucked into an accordion, an
emergency room. The body always analogous
to what’s outside of it: the way we build new homes
to no avail. A song, a symphony, a question.
Art and life: a question. Some women paint
exclusively with their blood and wasn’t that
always meant to be?
Guiying (Angel) Zhong (she/they) is a senior at the University of the Pacific studying psychology and English with minors in writing and ethnic studies. She is an Anaphora Arts Residency alumna. Her work has been published in Calliope, Kelp Magazine, and She Makes Words. She has won the University of the Pacific’s Seamus Heaney Prize for their poetry, as well as the First Runner-Up Arlen Hansen Scholarship for their critical and creative writing. They have also served as the Co-Editor-in-Chief for the University of the Pacific’s student literary and arts magazine, Calliope.
