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China

Shanghai Waltz

A thin man who smelled of mary jane 
taught me a Chinese Waltz
in the streets of Shanghai. 

The smooth weight of the sun 
held at bay by trees whose fingers
dapple me in shade, but still, I sweat.

My red sneakers are too clumsy
and my feet can't roll through the steps. 
I'm laughing even as I feel a blister forming on my heel. 

The wind catches my wayward curls 
As the spindly man twirls me to another 
dressed all in black who smiles too wide. 

He demonstrates each step with grace
spinning me through the song 
my purse knocking against my hip. 

There is no thought of what comes next
only the music and the distant ring of traffic 
as far away as heaven. 

I wish to bottle the smell of the trees 
capture the glint of the moment, 
the freedom of my silk scarf in the breeze. 

I never thought to find myself
dancing with strangers 
in the streets of Shanghai. 

- Alexis Taylor 

City Night in Wuhan 

The city lights shimmer, indistinct
in fog rolling off the briny Yangtze.
The beating pulse of the city echoes
in the ntz ntz ntz of the nightclub I just left
but below this superficial beat
a lower, deeper, rhythm courses
in the pattern of the pavestones winding
​through my mind like gritty sand through fingers.
The cracks in the pavement collecting shells
washed onto shore in the swishing waves
then ground to glittering dust beneath the weight
of so many treading feet, too forgetful to notice.
But I noticed everything, the conversation
between my body, the interloper, and the night air.
The tang of crayfish still lingers on my tongue
a pleasant heat battling with the acrid haze
of each inhale. I don’t remember how many steps
it took to find my way here to the bank.
I only remember the path, slipping through
alleys past glowing shops tucked inside incongruent
buildings the result of a history of invaders
treating it as home. The summer night is cold
and the river whispers secrets I wish I understood.

- Alexis Taylor