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when she speaks there are phrases missing
words strung up in incoherent pieces
memories juggling between myth and history

i once
was
a song.

her tongue tied, strangled consonants
whistled through the gap in her teeth
the clipped pages of a diary at her feet

my
dear
forgive me
we are lost.

her language is said to be imaginary
its lexicon like black and white photographs
imagined of spurious subjects

the wind
our wings
carried away.

no vowels to oil the sounds
she sputters constrained
her throat vibrating a cacophony

these lips
are
meant for verse.

then sing, I told her, sing
lay your letters along a lyre
confess your hymns in lyrics

aaaaaEEEjoooooolaiiiii

maaaaaaameeeYaaaaEEEeeee.

oh, but when she sings,

when
she
sings

i hear: take me, take me to the space between our breaths

oh, but how her eyes are closed so tightly,

the
tears
trembling

ruuuuuOOOOuuuuuuuaaaaAAuuuuuu
yeeeeeekAlallEEeeeeeeooooooyyy

i feel: i will be found, i will be free, i will rejoin

oh, but how her body sways,

her
arms
open, forgiving

i see: the orange typhoon of days, the blue-green of a winged peoples

oh, but the lilt in her voice

how
it
takes me away

xaaaaaaaaaaaAAAaaaaaooooyyyyy
YaaaaaaNayyEEeeeeeooooo

i am: the space in between breath, the sound of the hollow

i am…
free
so free
when she sings…



Zora Mai Quỳnh is a genderqueer Vietnamese writer whose short stories and essays can be found in The SEA Is Ours, Genius Loci: The Spirit of PlacePOC Destroy Science Fiction, and Luminescent Threads: Connections to Octavia Butler. This is her debut at Strange Horizons. Visit her: zmquynh.com. You may contact her at zmquynh.lyrics@gmail.com.
Current Issue
10 Feb 2025

The editors for the AfroSurrealism Special invite you to submit fiction, poetry, and nonfiction.
he curls his bicep into ever more and more and more bicep
Hush. He sees through / the static. Softly. It sees him back.
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