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Thousand Lotus Memorial Terrace

Only thought the smell of jasmine tasted like smoke.

Poetry | Poetry Tuesday, poetry
June 28, 2022

Grandma tells me she’ll fit inside a box, I tell her I don’t believe her. Watch, she says. You’ll put me in there. She points to the upper left of the terrace. The brass name plates stacked one on top of another. Next to your grandfather. I squint, looking for his name. My father’s standing to the side, still wearing his sunglasses. I can’t think of the characters of his name. My eyes start to wander to the— Grandma tugs at my shirt 张澄基, 在这儿. The last time we were here was many years ago. I can’t remember when. I didn’t know why. Only thought the smell of jasmine tasted like smoke. I bend sideways and take her hand. Tell her I’ll burn anything she wants, but not her body.