Anemic green: jaded being.
What sweetness did bees and insects 
suck out from your yellow flowers 
as you tendril and cling on to a ripening fruit? 
And what shade did the sun 
bleach out of you as you torment yourself, 
deformed gourd, and turn bitter? 
To eat you, sliced or diced, and boiled over 
to wean the yellow bile from within you,
your lament lingers on despite the garlic 
and black bean sauce, rolled over shrimp,  
minced pork and green beans in a wok: 
you are still tangy to the crunch.

Ancient sages have warned about you: 
even a China Rose would lose its sweetness, 
fade and wither away when soaked 
with water that has washed you over. 
Though I enjoy your mild displeasure, spiced 
with pepper and a bowl of rice, never 
would I pour you over my rose bushes 
lest lament should kill beauty.

This piece is part of the Summer 2026 issue.