Moonlight drips on the han-gang,

I’m a ghost in your headphone,

Erykah floats like incense smoke,

humming galaxies into my collarbone.

Time folds—Seoul to 1977,

your afro holds the whole night sky.

I trade my mask for a marigold,

we braid our blues into one long note.

Yun, run, run—

the train never waited for no one.

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Green eyes, you been lyin’ through your lashes

Dip-dappin’ in my honey with your plastic-painted passion

I smelled her on your collar, patchouli mixed with guilt

Tried to scrub the karma off, but the river wouldn’t tilt

You said the moon made you do it—blamed the shiftin’ tide

But these eyes been woke since 1995

I still fry your Plantains in my mind, bittersweet and slow

Green eyes, close the door; my heart don’t grow where false love go