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My memories are hollowed out
a cloth kept in a moth-filled closet
disintegrating at the barest brush of light:
the pulsating pupae breaking out.
At five I discovered
a swimming pool for drowning on the weekends.
Women’s murders unsolved on television channels.
Bathroom lights dancing to the beat of the ground,
tequila, salt, lime on endless loop.
Turning a losing twenty-one
the impersonal email announcing my grandmother’s passing
no invitation to a funeral, that or any others.
Alienation: separation, ache,
a badly set bone that stings with the changing weather.

Tania Chen is a Chinese-Mexican queer writer. Their work has been published in Unfettered Hexes by Neon Hemlock. They are a first reader for Strange Horizons and Nightmare Magazine and a graduate of the Clarion West Novella Bootcamp workshop of January/February 2021. They can be found on Twitter at @archistratego.
Current Issue
15 Aug 2022

You turned and Hailé was hunched by the counter, holding the Rift in his bare stomach together with his hands.
Their eyes trace the curves of our gears / like birds eyeing the shoreline and we / recite the songs our makers wrote
During recess, we would fight all the time.
Wednesday: Braking Day by Adam Oyebanji 
Friday: Appliance by J. O. Morgan 
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