Marmalade Lit
the 美女 of nanking, 1937
Eric Yang — Massachusetts, United States
抢 / qiǎng / to steal
the first time i was stolen, you forced my name
through the folds of your gritted teeth & wondered
how the withered syllables oxidized like blood.
something decaying & unholy — war carries
a stifling breath before the sky sinks its teeth into a
city’s flesh. bombs pinched into blackened flecks of coal
spat dry from the clouds, a harbinger of hungry
vowels — 美女, scrounged from thirsty mouths,
guttural. porcelain skin of young daughters
unspooled like silk. your joss-paper effigies braiding
crimson trails into the yangtze, nanking’s murky
throat to swallow your briny tears & scorched body
in one, concluding
gulp.
杀 / shā / to murder
the first time i was murdered, the filth of silence was
my only witness. i was seven, olive-skinned & bearing
a childhood soon pilfered. you called it conquest, i
screamed murderer, my life pillaged & fractioned like
the blooms of mushrooms i nursed under rotten floorboards.
my mother knelt in front of the altar, lacquered elm splintered,
incense flushed out, a bayonet poised just above
the gauge of a fleshed-out heart. her bony hands clasped
in a sort of prayer that feeds off the anguished, a
filthy & discarded woman drowned
in her own blood yet still
unbeknownst.
记 / jì / to remember
the first time i was remembered, my wounds bled salty
scabs. i peeled them back, undressed them, felt embraced
by a foreign beauty. to live is to simply change the radical
from the word for speech — 话 to the word for to live — 活.
so i speak & reminisce for all of nanking’s 美女’s, for the
children nursing mushrooms to kill hunger, for all the
exsanguinated elegies of womanhood. perhaps to have been
seen is to have lived as a 美女. so i shuck the name,
raw, down to its pit & reclaim myself,
buried in my own
tongue.
*美女 - měi nü - a term translating to “beautiful woman/girl” which was used by the Japanese during the notorious Nanking Massacre (otherwise known as The Rape of Nanking) to lure, abduct, murder, and sexually abuse young women and girls. This word became a powerful symbol of the dehumanization and suffering faced by the Chinese during this period, as well as the resilience and unity of civilians who fought back against this development.
About
Eric Yang is a 16-year-old writer from Massachusetts, United States, currently a 10th grader attending Phillips Academy. His writing and art pieces have been nationally recognized by Scholastic Art & Writing and have been published in literary magazines such as The Incandescent Review.