Cento For the Seasons of Love

I imagine him running down autumn fields, 

in the rain puddles underneath the Brooklyn Bridge.

half a country away

The man before him

hated him, the asshole.

This time she possesses no rage.

In springtime, chief of all seasons,

he is all hers.

Make believe. Tea for two.

It’s the never-leaving part I like.

You left a note.

“The world is no longer mysterious,

spring doesn’t hurt as much anymore”

“That’s the universe,” I replied.

This poem comprises lines borrowed from the following poets: Elizabeth Alexander, Gertrude Stein, Sarah Carson, Shereen Akhtar, Shira Haus, Khari Dawson, Max Fischer, Carole Boston Weatherford, Ariana Lee, Martha Silano, Xochitl-Julisa Bermejo, Karl Knights, Richard Siken and Jessica Jiang