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Originally published January 31, 2014, on Tumblr.

A NIGHT IN THE PURPLE TULIP PALACE (ADAGIO)

In this seraglio night always consists of     moonlight, jade steps and a curtain of pearls
all imaginary     a bunch of flowers against blue wallpaper
imagine     caving in under the concubine’s clothes a mound of snow
snow waiting impatiently to be possessed its crystalline body slowly
turning     constantly curling in on itself in a slow dance
a bunch of tulips divesting itself of the love of self as it brightly declines
a kind of purple whisper which must be spoken breathily
addressing only him as he crushes the petals heavily
a drop of purple milk like a concubine impatiently waiting to be sucked
concentrating     the entire world into one burning duct

In this seraglio     fire always has the rude playfulness of tongues
a pointed tip     licks the emptiness of skin     midnight’s cling
green like leaves gathered at the concubine’s ankles
his preference for her     a shower coming from every angle
watering the flower the little purple bowl of her nipple fills

—Yang Lian

Can’t Find My Way Home by Stevie Winwood

Come down off your throne
and leave your body alone.
Somebody must change.
You are the reason
I’ve been waiting so long.
Somebody holds the key.

But I’m near the end
and just ain’t got the time
And I’m wasted
and I can’t find my way home.

Come down on your own
and leave your body alone.
Somebody must change.
You are the reason
I’ve been waiting all these years.
Somebody holds the key.

But I’m near the end
and just ain’t got the time
And I’m wasted and I
can’t find my way home.

But I can’t find my way home.
But I can’t find my way home.
But I can’t find my way home.
But I can’t find my way home.
Still I can’t find my way home,
And I ain’t done nothing wrong,
But I can’t find my way home.

 

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