Λόγος σάρξ ἐγένετο, scan my pinking flesh, 
dented divots from my inky pen, no
墨 to drink. Excuse me, I play with babbles,
singing your scribbles.

Draw it out. Pray, jazz with me. Pluck the hairy
strokes and Trace calligraphy. Laisse 
en moi, l’amour, les lignes de la langue. Raise 
your palette, open your mouth, receive the
Bread of my Breath, be

lieve in me. 我日夜都不住呼求,
日 Truncate the hEavens, divide with • • •
Se connaître on a bridge of feathers—I swallow
nervously, Lover. 

Curse my Tongue, I garble your Name. Sometimes I 
slip, like Oi! 我愛 your erotic hollows
好, 我要 don’t laugh at me, boy 你笑
We’re fitting together.

Priscilla Lee ’25 is a staff writer

Kyla Biscocho ’25 is a staff artist