cadence chung
names that end with a
nina came over to my house / put her pink iphone in my drawer / where i keep rose oil / fingered the keys of the piano / we were making a film / one sultry, sweaty summer / when she lay under my bed to be out of the frame / she laughed at all the shoes under there / and i tasted peaches in the salty air / saw peaches on the road, crushed / pith smeared along the tarmac / rolling about, so many of them / like someone had dumped them out by the boxful //
// olivia plays drums in our school band / eyes bright and cheeks red / fiddling with the mangled kit / covered in holes from too many excited teenagers / one time, they used a drink bottle as a cymbal / we all laughed so hard at its high-pitched clunk / that i forgot the chords of the song / i still revel in the deep, visceral smell / of the room we play in / it smells like music / it smells like heat //
// anita talks to me on the bus sometimes / after going out for coffee with friends / and we ask each other questions and complain about teachers / swinging words back and forth like a pendulum / i wonder if this is all there is to conversation / all there is to friendship / just swinging and swinging and maybe sometimes hitting something / that reverberates //
// i danced with ella, once / or maybe twice / in films i wrote / our sweaty palms clasped together / she had to teach me how to waltz / her black patent leather shoes foxtrotting / on the dusty ground / record player spinning aimlessly / as we hastily drew apart / each time someone walked by / her sweet, musky smell / like a crushed fern leaf / lingering on me as i went home / makeup in oily pools on my face / and i wondered when i’d dance with someone / for real / and if it would be just as sweaty and awkward / or perhaps even more //
// and while i sit / alone / on the bus / or by the sea / i wonder what the peaches were doing on the side of the road / i wonder who planted the narcissus flowers that grow by the beach / i picked huge handfuls and watched them wither in a glass vase / i pressed the old flowers in a paper towel / round indentations blooming on the thin surface / stretched with veins / narcissus, named for the boy / who couldn't stop looking at his own reflection //
// god, can i help being absorbed in this life / when the people around me bloom? / i can’t help but watch them / and hope they’re ok / there's something soft about each of their names / on my tongue / names i cannot touch / without bruising the petals / of each letter / each name ends with an A / like a sweet little embellishment / makes them hard for me to wrap around and hold tight / i wonder how many people / in the courtenay place crowd / have names that end with A / and names that don’t / i wonder many will know me / and how many see my face / in their dreams / stored in their subconscious / just another person / another girl / and, you know, maybe nobody planted the flowers / maybe they spread on their own / maybe nobody really knows what they’re doing / maybe i should just try //
// we never finished the film / i think the footage is out there still / me and nina joking about the shoes under my bed / blooming, maybe / spreading sweet juice along the road / her name, still on the white fur / of my tongue //
Cadence Chung is a student at Wellington High School. She first started writing poetry during a particularly boring maths lesson when she was nine. Outside of poetry, she enjoys singing, songwriting, reading old books and perusing antique stores.