Ingrid Cui

& what shall we do today?

lumber on TV, blaring
criticisms as curling iron
slips and singes scalp
cools me down after
the third cup of coffee 
comes and goes,
slightly acidic, but surely meant well.
take my hand, and
we’ll go to wonderland
where long nights are not
for tomorrow’s wine, nor
meant for yesterday’s homework 
but something better than that;
I will make you reenact 
your mother’s plight
ophelia’s entrance
and her prompt departure;
duncan, who never knew
what hit him one night,
who dies infinite scenes
to die better the next.
sweetness of candy,
trudge through slush
you newly fallen snow
fuck me in 10throbarts
where the sins of our ancestors
dance to words;
the bed I wake up in
that is warmest when nobody
gets under the covers,
touches me, or
smears her red lipstick on
my plush paper napkins –
fold them my dear,
for exquisite crease
does flatter my palate
as walks at midnight in
the city deserted that I wish 
you would tell me not to do
do; like the sour hot plate
I felt in my stomach
when he lip synced the songs
to my stuttering flesh, still
not yet finished
digesting that next time.
I do not know
what to say to the porter
at 3 in the morning
but since he is kind
I only wave quietly 
as we pass through the lobby,
two comrades in winter 
with holes in our boots
marching onto russia.
quiet elevator ride and 
click of closing door
and for some reason I feel like crying

Ingrid Cui is an undergraduate student at the University of Toronto.