By Anastacia Barbie Chu

I.

At last, a shrill ring pierces the air,
and chatter spills back into the room.
Tote trays slam into desks,
And I fumble with the laces on my pink converses.
Lines form; bubbles pop between lips.
Hushes silence the room, earnestly trying to mitigate the inevitable chaos.

Doors burst and GO!
Blazing sunlight blinds us,
A dozen fawns darting towards the jungle.
Whistles shriek as peregrines with lanyards
purvey the scene of wild kits running amock.

We all scurry toward the swings,
And I smile with pride settling into the plastic
Screaming at my friends to join me.

We swing our legs faster, and faster —
Soaring into the air in tandem
“You’re going to get married!”
my classmates cry, clutching the swing’s rusted poles,
giggling and hollering,
All waiting anxiously for their turn

But for now, i possessed the seat
With a grin carved into my cheeks.
As the sun embraced me in its rays,
a breeze swooshes holding me in its chill,
Tickling my closed eyelids, brushing my hair
Taking me higher into the air: free and infinite

II.

As dusk colors the horizon with streaks of amaranth pink, vermillion, and amethyst
A havoc of taxis beep, with youth promenading to soirées.

My legs swiftly stroll past the city lamps,
gradually emitting yellow balls of light
As I hope to reach my destination before dark.

I enter a dim chamber of candlelight,
deep voices chuckling around me.
My feet molded uncomfortable to the peculiar bend of my mother’s heels,
“First left, then right.”
I inhale, and don a smile as I perform the choreography:
A brush of cheeks, lips pursing — la bise, and polite niceties.

Golden elixir swirls in my glass;
We drink like romans, feasting on our youth.
The twilight sweeps us into its embrace—
A warehouse looms in the darkness,
a heartbeat pulsing through its walls.

We shuffle into the queue amongst other dreamers,
Shallow conversations fill the empty space,
Until finally the doors swing open,
And we enter another dimension of sublimity.

Hands drift aimlessly in the air, bodies colliding and shoving,
Limbs entwined in sync to the blaring bass beating through our bones.
Time slips away, and i dissolve into the rhythm,
swaying under the blooming lights.

A cacophony of laughter ripple around me
But its echo quickly fades into the dark
as the bass tries to pull me deeper into its grasp. 
Instead I dwell in a prison of recollection,
searching for an escape.

I emerge again into the night
A flaneur, roaming the cobblestoned streets,
With only the moon’s translucent light revealing the monuments of my juvenility —
monkey bars, slides, and picnic tables.
Nobody runs to the swings, nobody hoots with laughter
But i walk ahead alone, settling into a creaking yellow seat
That no longer fits my hips, with feet that no longer dangle

I commence again:
Limbs swinging, moonlight streaming, and a gust timidly approaches,
Attempting to return me to my moments when the wind held me.

III.

My vessel lingers in this flicker of the present,
Yet my mind my mind roams the fragments of what was—
dollhouses, yellow swing sets, and ice-cold popsicles.
When life extended beyond temporal bounds
And tomorrow could not arrive soon enough.

I seek refuge in my vast analogue of yesterdays,
Donning princess dresses instead of pencil skirts,
When unknowing was innocent and curiosity was enticing,
Knowledge not yet a burden, and time moved too slowly.

I idle in the moment, sifting through the soft vortex of memories.
The present eludes me, fleeing far before my fingers can grasp it.

I no longer wish to merely exist, suspended in a quixotic continuum—
I ache to live and play, connecting the junctures of past and becoming,
Emerging free, cradling nostalgia while embracing the tangible. ■