Another Word for Tender

By Hannah Treasure

I’ve gone to Shanghai to calm down
and gain a few pounds.
To ask better questions
about things I’d never
pretend to know: roadside
sweet potatoes, the color code
of roses, your father’s linen room.
Wine umbrellas the lips
as I stare at your neck.
My data-free dictionary
loops shelter with unbutton.
Says another word for
the tenderness I want to give you
is die young. Like the way a
girl dons spikes
at the mountain base
I am out to prove everyone wrong.
My dialogue has changed now.
I shout from the bridge
you bright honest spur
let’s keep singing
opposite languages.
I am so afraid of a love
that could slow me that
the glass shatters in my hand
wheels falling where they may.
I have seen the empty end.
Carried the guitar home.
Your pillow print leaves
a hollow globe by my ledge.
I dip my toes into the sun.

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Hannah Treasure is a poet currently living and working in Shanghai.