I Don’t Know Who You Are but I Love You
- onMarch 22, 2018
- Vol.39 Spring 2018
- byShin Daechul
- I Don’t Know Who You Are but I Love You
The horizon rising through the fog abruptly
divides the land, south and north
The dawn pushes trenches into the earth
and returns, wrapped in fog,
the glimpsed blue river washed in snow
and wound around its neck and torso
The wind blows, the Korean flag flies.
The wind blows, the UN flag flies.
Between the pair of fluttering flags
Someone comes up the mountain path. Halt! He only pretends to halt. No hands-up, no waving of a white handkerchief, his head sags as he slinks towards me. Somewhere in my body someone shouts.
(Wait, there’s a barbed wire fence
Wait, there’s a minefield
Wait, show us your hands,
raise them up and turn around!)
Passwords exchanged at the last second, but a path lengthens whitely between the eyebrows. The closer he gets, the more thorns I feel on me. At this line of division, we become a lump of lightning or rainstorm of anxiety or fear, hug each other until our breaths crack and we go our separate ways, and meet again two days early
With the barbed wire between us, we
wordlessly look at each other
Who are we
standing like stop signs?
Kingfisher ibis kingfisher ibis
From fifty speakers, little by little
code-deciphered lyrics fall into
the rhythm of “Casa Bianca” on the hill