tanhua

Isabel Li, United States

you’re a fleeting dream,

a midsummer night’s

only now do you choose to

open:

unlock yourself

to an embittered world

but for the night,

you reign as queen,

crowned from a princess

perpetually bound to reticence

Your Majesty, how do you know? / how do you know when to finally unfurl, to reflect the full moon in your shimmering dew? / to whisper your secrets to the sultry void? / to confess your surreal truths, the way i once tried?

as if it was an epiphany from the moonlit sky—

giving no signal,

you blossom

carnation-pink sepals outstretched

like an open hand

reaching for a chance

Epiphyllum, they say that you are but a mere moment: 昙花一现 / so tell me, how is it possible to last an eternity from an ephemerality? / to turn momentary to momentous? / to flourish, to fluoresce a snow-white glow from the impossible depths of night?

what a taciturn flower you are

and yet, the moment is

yours

tell me,

why do you bloom?

Tanhua,

i wish i could ask you more

but it’s morning

Isabel Li (she/her) is an 18-year-old writer based in Southern California. As a student in the Claremont Colleges, she is currently pursuing degrees in media studies and music. When she’s not actively brainstorming ideas for her next story or poem, you can find her sculpting, drawing, or indulging in a Brahms symphony. You can find her on Instagram @/harmonicwords.