MINYING HUANG grew up in Cambridge, UK. She has spent the last year studying for an MA in Comparative Literature at the University of Toronto. Her poems have appeared in PANK, Electric Literature, and Plenitude Magazine, among others. She tweets @minyingh.
Snakeskin
Minying Huang
SNAKESKIN
by Minying Huang
I bring out the snakeskin in winter. the cold so I crust,
the cold so I flake, the cold so I am armouring always,
never armoured enough. & when warmth leaves, this
body flat, this body only rib after rib after rib, always
never reaching that rock or road in the sun, how she’s
trying growth, trying – & when warmth leaves, how I
scratch – & when warmth leaves, trying – armouring
always – only rib after rib after rib. the cold so I steel,
so still, trying – I bring out the snakeskin in winter but
scales are shed when I don’t mean to make myself so
soft. & when warmth leaves, this body soft, after the
rough so I crust, the rough so I flake, the rough so I am
armouring always, never armoured enough. & rib after
rib after rib, only chest, all lung, she expands, always
trying growth, trying – & unafraid & soft & breathing
after the rough. & when warmth leaves, reaching. how
she’s soft emerging looking to rip herself open. the old
so I crust, the old so I flake, the old so safe, unsafe. &
after the old, rib after rib after rib. & tense. where are
our lungs? this body, only rib after rib after rib, & how
she’s trying growth, trying. I bring out the snakeskin in
winter. where are our lungs? trying growth, trying –
how unafraid & soft & breathing after the rough. &
how did you rip? how do you rip after rip after rip
