Chen-ou Liu Poems

her face
in my whisky
the moon floats
...

dreams banished
from the clear blue sky
I count
the number of birthday cakes
...

the shining moon
that used to perch
on my childhood dreams
now hovers over
...

spicy chicken …
this impulse to ask
if she's married
...

pointing a finger...
I yell at my shadow
on an empty chair
...

ice pellets
bouncing off my head
this April day
like that winter night
...

"I just need
more space between us..."
at sunset
I barely hear her
...

I stand still
saying nothing, everything
as she waves goodbye...
the sound of leaves
...

I gaze up
at the white contrail
while writing tanka
as if there were magic words
...