i dream of royal things you should climb:
standing with you at the foot of them
as though you were permanently mine
rather than this
going between
cities as we do emotions,

From the start, his role in Black Panther has left a stick-with-me-forever kind of feeling. He is downright regal in the film, in a way that felt so much more than just the embodiment of a character.

And now, to reflect on the fact that he was diagnosed with Stage 3 colon cancer in late 2016, and Black Panther was filmed the first quarter of 2017. Not to mention a smattering of other films he shot while simultaneously undergoing surgeries and chemo. That his sickness was not a point of focus is astounding, and no doubt intentional. …

Weeks ago, some random email fired my way for no clear or traceable reason has resulted, today, in the coordinator for the local African American Writers Alliance to — again, out of the blue — invite me over to her house so she can bestow upon me a bevy of leftover Southern food fixins from her oldies party last night, when a bunch of her friends had gathered to feast, dance, and sing on her massive patio.

Turns out Georgia, too, is a self-professed lover of talking to strangers, and boy, does it show. We two freaks bond over culture-sharing…

are you rested?
deliberate in your beliefs?
distant as outer planets,
circumnavigating landscapes
of wild mystery.

the oceans will carry you
as you fall into gentle waves
lapping upon shores,
carving erosion
in so many minuscule ways.

fractions of a hair
like a pinprick on your neck;
that tiny bird buzzes,
sends nagging messages
to your ears,
that the worst is over,
and working harder
to get stronger
is the only thing
that’s left.

// july 23, 2019 //

The moon is a sliver, barely visible in the eternally falling sunset.

I walked for more than two hours, catching most of that slowly changing color; searching for something, but mostly like meditation, losing focus in my eyes as I stepped.

I thought I should make land art with my feet. Considered how many times I could walk back and forth to create the equivalent of a forest trail within the grassy knoll of my neighborhood park: one of the few sites of freedom.

I am not the only one. I spot others who also have the same pattern to…

I knew before we met that it wouldn’t last long.

I'd dreamt of him in symbols, with a clarity I find only in dreams which are forthcoming, soothsaying, psychic. I knew not his face but knew of his golden hair, his appearance from the north, and the vital creative impact we were destined to have upon one another.

Searching for more affirmation, I consulted a tarot reader. She began by drawing cards about my previous relationship, and accurately detailed the suffocation I'd felt and the loss of myself within its "golden cage". I never fully knew who I was in…

It'll pass.

Just subtle melancholy.
Just full moon impending.
Just two months later.

Just nostalgia is a bitch,
and I cannot allow myself to live in it.

Just want to smoke weed
but really have next to no idea how.

All I have is leftover pot from James, now so ancient that it fries up and crisps without hardly a breath inhaled. A whisping whip of the wind will set it ablaze, and this is how wildfires start. This is how flames lap upon your lips and singe the hairs, microscopic -- so that you hardly even know you're scarring…

we talk about precedent-setting,
bad habits
of talking too much.
he sparks and stokes that fire
only to break it.
creates the patterns and the molds
only to crush it.
i along for the ride.
i grasping tight.
i firm hold into the night
and find myself destitute
under near full moonlight.

pisces moon.
sagittarius rising.
causing me problems
in their dividing
of freedom and caution
too caught up
too divided
to ensnare
for this moment
we are here.

i am just another
to be filled
though other people look on
thinking i am full.
thinking we are full.
thinking that the blazing glory
passing back and forth between our eyes
is to be believed
as truth.
i find it fiction
right now
as when i was floating
through oceans
held by waves
carried by dolphins
now thoroughly submerged
in darkness.

one time when a relationship was fading

was failing

we had taken a trip and someone asked us

what was the best moment?

what was the best moment

was watching a slug trail along a trail

an extended duration

of filling our space

our speech

so empty

with something


i find now the incredulity of the other

to be correct.

“that boring, huh?”

something to that effect…


more for herself, and to herself, than to me… though she is physically and verbally directing those words towards me. on this very christmas eve, as she is projecting them in my direction, she is apologizing for her inability to speak perfect english.

and i won’t really have any of it. it makes me impatient and disgusted. not at her — for it is not her fault — but at the society which leads her to believe it is she who has to apologize; that at this age, nearing 70, the distance of the difficulties from her immigrant’s life feel…

Vivian Hua

Vivian Hua (華婷婷) is a writer, filmmaker, and organizer based out of Seattle, WA & West Coast floatin’.

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