guilinbet©papa osmubal

guilin©papa osmubal

lili han

if your gin and tonic
were an alchemist’s sapphire
if your chocolate tiramisu
hadn’t smelled a rosemary leaf
if the letters on your private recipe
didn’t imagine that Guilin was once a laurel town
if the turtle dove
hadn’t been an old acquaintance

If yesterday’s lunch
wove nothing but such a metaphor
if this fish bubbling “oui, oui, cest moi”
were not sunk in the chattering crowd

If my numb face
never lets God laugh


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