Meet Me At My Grave On The Autumn Equinox
A speculative poem where sapphic lovers reunite in a graveyard.
Meet me at my grave on the Autumn Equinox.
Dreary September eve with a chilly breeze.
A light rain falls. The moon hidden behind thick clouds.
The mud clings to the boots I had given you.
Trudge over sleeping bodies, once smiling and dancing.
But the jazz music had long since faded.
And the mountain of bills was nothing to smile about.
ㅤ
White lilies everywhere. Rotten bouquets.
Bleeding ink on name tags. Trampled underfoot.
The trees are turning red like the oath that we made.
Falling leaves gliding in the night as you approach.
ㅤ
Five years had flashed by. Quicker than lightning.
You no longer wear your ebony hair in braids.
No longer adorn your wrists with gold and silver.
Your pallid complexion rival the winter snow.
The shadows around your eyes had only grown darker.
For some reason, I know you did not eat supper.
Do you not recall the times when I had beseeched you to take care?
ㅤ
You bring me flowers. Bundle of chrysanthemums.
The wind plucks away a few golden petals.
And you set it down by my headstone.
The one you had clung to while crying five years ago.
ㅤ
I wish I could hold you like how I used to.
I wish I could whisper sweet nothings.
I wish I could tell you that the other side
is much more beautiful than the world
of the living when those who are breathing
tend to suck you dry and burn you out
for businesses that will never outshine nature.
ㅤ
Your hollow gaze rest on my name
etched forevermore on this plaque.
My surname that now appears
every time you leave your signature.
ㅤ
Your family wanted you to be a mother.
For a man to teach you some manners.
But you felt much more comfortable
with the girl you had met in college.
I do not remember any of my readings.
Memories become fade-out photographs
with you being my only focal point of color.
ㅤ
You stare at my remains for a few moments longer.
You turn and leave me with the chrysanthemums.
I materialize beside my grave and pick up a blossom.
It smells just like the flower shop where we shared our first kiss.
ㅤ
I peer up to see you looking at me.
© Written by Feifei Z (2023)
Feifei Z (张飞飞) is a Chinese storyteller and the keeper of Wheel-37, which is a megaverse of twelve realms that celebrates diverse communities reclaiming their power. When not indulging in her artistic projects, she enjoys listening to music from around the world, watching C-Dramas, and appreciating nature. Learn more at feifeiz.com and keep up with Wheel-37 on her Substack.