From the Ceiling (Demo)

by Stephen Lin Poetry

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Out of tune piano songs and poems for out of tune people


First snow fell an hour ago
and where is it now?
It clung to me like a lover,
or like I wish my lovers did,
and melted the way we all
melt away from from the heat
of our bodies, steaming in the
cold. First snow fades the
fastest. Like love at first sight
or really any beginning.
I want to remember for the sake
of history, to know where I've
been but movement and loss
make for the best sense of
something personal. Imagine
an unfamiliar room and growing
to know it for a night. When
comfort becomes something
new. When the ceiling is
a discovery again, like
an artifact against the static
of restless precipitation.
The largeness of a shared bed,
the spreading and opening
of a body underneath the
covers, the intimacy after
intimacy. But the ground has
dried beneath us. I know this
because I no longer feel
your floor beneath my feet.
When we exchanged stories of
suicides, I know now we
didn't expect to remember them.
When I asked you how we got
here, you couldn't tell me. I've
forgotten the season of our first
encounter. Even still, you sleep
next to the place where I slept.
We've exchanged interiors.
I used to be ashamed when I let
you in. But you learned to navigate
the intersecting paths, the clutter
of my lines. I knew
when my poems started making
sense, that this wouldn't last.


released December 25, 2015
Mastered by Ben Nehlich at The Sickhouse




Stephen Lin Poetry Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

The poetics of parallels and intersections, collisions and contrasts.

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