I stuff my torso with history,
curl my body into fetal position
to withstand the impact of centuries.
Umbilical
By Vanessa Chen
NaiNai lays out her patchwork 旗袍,1
each seam a mouth stitched
shut with the protests of 1989.
she tells me about how her lotus blushed
amidst the destruction, but
all I can think of are her regrets
—she must be so sorry for letting Ma see fighter jets
cut across the night & believe they were shooting stars.
at NaiNai’s funeral,
Ma kept looking out the window
to make sure the migrating geese hadn’t lost their formation
—this vigilance is intergenerational:
NaiNai counted losses she couldn’t undo,
& Ma prepared for ones that never came,
& I crawled out of her, clinging to my lungs
for fear they’d slip out & forget breathing.
I stuff my torso with history,
curl my body into fetal position
to withstand the impact of centuries.
this 旗袍 holds
a girl holds
a lineage holds
all that could go wrong.
I will leave this world holding onto what I entered it with:
lungs,
white foam at the mouth,
an umbilical still tethered
to the dark it first knew.
1 qipao: a traditional Chinese dress
About the Author...
Vanessa Chen is a high school senior from Vancouver, Canada. Her work has been recognized by The New York Times, the Alliance for Young Artists & Writers, and the League of Canadian Poets, among others. An alumna of the Iowa Young Writers’ Studio, Vanessa also edits for Polyphony Lit—and she’s a devoted cheese lover.
About the Artist...
Angelina Gao is a Senior at Western Albemarle High School in Virginia whose love for visual arts began in early childhood. Her favorite mediums are acrylic and graphite. In her artwork, she seeks not only to express her own emotions, but to gently remind viewers of the silent dialogue between humanity, the natural world, and the vast universe we share.