bear the gods who spun eden into immaculate decay
the benevolent rot of living
passing by the scenic route
shield your gaze from the bright sands
and the storm at the end of rainbows.
bear the gods who wordlessly
carry wisps of a woman’s grief
through willows and glistening
as if it can never be enough.
the universe is poised on a tattered hope
on the world-wise smiles of Las Cruces
and the royal skies of Truth or Consequences
where among eternal hot springs
a man-made lake lays on its side
and stretches elephant long
where David Parker Ray
drowned his cold bodies
where they bear the gods.
there is no line in our rush for gold
no matter the quakes of our angels
or the flowering of our beasts
no matter how much betrayal we swallow
or how high we look.
instead bear the gods
who make their quiet mistakes
who insist on sacrifice
for shallow breaths, for ligaments
for cake in the black of night.
i eat my bitterness with faith
and sweet clotted cream
take it with stalks of sugarcane
every time trying to recapture
that first taste
on a reservoir in Lake Havasu City
where i realized
love is merely mortal.
i drink despair down
with lavender wine and burning ambrosia honey
the smoke leaks from my eyes
covets the giant’s staircase
and the blood
that bears the gods.
i wonder if there is such thing as cloudless grace
or if you’ve got me on my knees.
About Lilian Caylee Wang
Lilian Caylee Wang won a writing contest as a five-year-old in Tennessee. Since then, her work has been published in the New York Times, McSweeney’s, The Huffington Post, Whetstone Magazine, sPARKLE & bLINK, Black Fox Literary Magazine, Solstice Literary Magazine, Five Points, and more. She lives in LA with her partner and her puppy.