after Diana Khoi Nguyen’s "Triptych"
a displacement: you are losing your hair. I am resting again on your floor on your deflating air mattress—it could be my mossy remembering or my moss muscles—your dog says breakfast time. you are losing your hair. you are losing your hair as a hairless bear loses. a hairless bear is torn from her cave as she is cub-less as she grows less grows more grows more barren a more barren bear. to lessen. to displace: an act of replacing of breaking the tags off a new wig making with it a new line saying a new line do you like this how many times can it break before it is a buzz a shaved head. a honey hungry brown bear; plundering bear, honey in her nose she is breaking all the hives inviting every angry bee under her skin; break the bees she is swatting like she is burning, you are confronting a foot little by little under a blanket, little by little you are made of fur and forgetting that little by little you lose it and I am ignoring your dying. I am ignoring I am chewing on the phone receiver it is a slick stinking salmon bone and it is full of shocking marrow and splinter and I am eating my own fractured silence. where goes the cold air— oh still and silent bear I am asleep on your back how long ago? I am sweating tonight I am sleeping in a trash can in front of my dresser filling it emptying it filling it filling it kissing all the bees they are under my furry blanket wiggling like toes. angry bees: I am breaking. I am breaking all the honeycomb breaking all the hives, bear and I breaking breaking breaking breaking wax teeth buzzing teeth, I am swallowing bees and my belly is still buzzing. I am fat from bees I am fat from swallowing bees from swallowing bears who are swallowing hives who are bearing bees. today I sing buzzing, sing wax teeth, sing my tongue, sing my tongue of bees, sing a spitting, sing swelling. this is the act of skinning this is the act of hanging yourself on the wall laying your skins on the floor of emptying the honeycomb pouring your salmon fatted stomach down the drain again stripping your lips blue the blueberry lips stripped lips, whose skin am I skinning whose skin am I whose blueberry bear bluebell bear dead bled bear hive holding bear honey handed bear bee bellied bear
Emelia Kamadulski is a writer of poetry and fiction based in Denver, Colorado. She is currently pursuing a degree in the arts at the University of Denver.