She wanted to plant a tree
below her left shoulder.
Her skin, the earth, the color of tea—
but a history of ink is older.
Below her left shoulder
she wanted a tree with her initials,
blood-chiseled yet bolder
to make it official.
She wanted a tree with her initials,
a landmark that feels like home.
Skin deep to make it official
in indigo monochrome.
This place she’d always come
with a pair of birds, an empty swing,
the melody of a harmonium
to recall how her children sing.
A pair of birds, an empty swing.
She wanted to plant a tree
with its own history every spring.
Her skin, the earth, the color of tea.
Arthur Solway’s poems have recently appeared in Salmagundi, TriQuarterly, BOMB, The Antioch Review, with work forthcoming in The London Magazine, the oldest literary journal in the UK. He is a frequent contributor of reviews and cultural essays in Artforum, Frieze, Art Asia Pacific magazines, among other publications in the Asian region. He has been Shanghai-based since 2007.