imperial purgatory

by 伊凌 yi ling

well well, this legalistic deathliness reaches another milestone. i remain seeking citizenship in my own ancestral land that remains under a flaccid Chinese colonial rule. still, this is strengthening, this small, hagridden and expensive work to correct the betrayals from colonial violence that forced my father to flee and patriarchal violence that chased my mother even into the west.

staying alive thanks to daring connections with the queerest and bravest dynamos…living, connecting are all in restructuring as my basic legal rights stay stripped away and i exist outside the comforts of the integration for tourists and citizens.

I will keep all lines of the wind open

And place all my days free and empty

And reenvision what it means to be unencumbered

Or bereft

Not crying but the expanse of numbers

That go beyond the grave to what is left

behaving (what I was taught to perceive as) badly on the borders…shifting understandings of surviving and thriving. staying curious in obscenities–thrumming agony that releases into blooming pleasure…

as of late, certain connections ring full of deep deep inquiries…an intensity to go thru and go deep into what lays underneath us…seeking pleasure hidden for far too long…these adventures…2am  啤酒🍻 full of delicious summer heat and liquid cool…soothing delight as it goes until it goes…

grateful to celebrate kindness and queerness that enlivens my dark heart so often in-tension with forced enclosures…lifted to a world away in a dream or haze.

It was true without a set of things like letters

It was true the air was free and open

And I saw things as they were

Without violence

For the first time

MILK, Dorothea Lasky