My Fic: The Old Guard: Quynh/Andy: Gen
Jul. 28th, 2021 07:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stonepicnicking_okapiTitle: Poem for the Beloved
Fandom: The Old Guard
Pairing: Quynh/Andy
Length: 400
Rating: Gen
For: Gen Prompt Bingo Square B-2: Vietnam
Note: my reference was Vietnam, Enchantment of the World Series by Terry Willis [2013]
Summary: A prose poem by Quynh for Andy
You are to me like the fragrance of the Perfume River in autumntime when its waters are laden with fallen orchids. I row my little boat on this river, my two hands gripping the aged oars. My arms are circling, circling. My little boat is moving with your current, my beloved, inhaling your breath, thick and heady.
I look upon my upturned palm, and I see my parents, their parents, every generation, going back and back. They are all present in my body, all drawn on my hand. I am the continuation of each of them. I see the lines of the past on my palm, but that is not all I see. I also see a tiny scar, a little hardened callous, and those are my present, my gifts, and my future. Those are you, my beloved.
You are water, my beloved, and I am limestone. You erode my defenses, slowly, patiently, and carve wondrous caves inside my body, my heart, my mind, my spirit. You make a necklace of islands, some shaped like towers, out of my flesh, and on each gem in the chain you hide secrets known only to it. You are rain, my beloved, pouring down, my monsoon, demonstrating your strength, the force of your being.
My love for you grows as quick as bamboo. My love is as handsome as mahogany, teak, and ebony. My love is as thick as rattan and liana. My love is a market, bins and baskets brimming with cucumbers, spinach, and eggplant.My love is a kite, a tiny flute hidden in its many wings so that it may sing out my love as it skips along the breeze.
I am a stick of incense, burning for you, reaching up, up, up towards the sky, caressing your cheek.
When I met you, it was like the new year. I swept the tomb of my heart, paid my debts, and decorated myself as welcome, enticement, and celebration.
I am a child, carrying a lantern on an early autumn morning. Watch my lion dance, my beloved, see how fierce I am, parading through the village that is you and yours. I dance. I don a mask and tell you a tale and you give a mooncake filled with the fruits of your love.
This is me, my beloved, at the bottom of the ocean, still yours, still yearning, still waiting for reunion.
Fandom: The Old Guard
Pairing: Quynh/Andy
Length: 400
Rating: Gen
For: Gen Prompt Bingo Square B-2: Vietnam
Note: my reference was Vietnam, Enchantment of the World Series by Terry Willis [2013]
Summary: A prose poem by Quynh for Andy
You are to me like the fragrance of the Perfume River in autumntime when its waters are laden with fallen orchids. I row my little boat on this river, my two hands gripping the aged oars. My arms are circling, circling. My little boat is moving with your current, my beloved, inhaling your breath, thick and heady.
I look upon my upturned palm, and I see my parents, their parents, every generation, going back and back. They are all present in my body, all drawn on my hand. I am the continuation of each of them. I see the lines of the past on my palm, but that is not all I see. I also see a tiny scar, a little hardened callous, and those are my present, my gifts, and my future. Those are you, my beloved.
You are water, my beloved, and I am limestone. You erode my defenses, slowly, patiently, and carve wondrous caves inside my body, my heart, my mind, my spirit. You make a necklace of islands, some shaped like towers, out of my flesh, and on each gem in the chain you hide secrets known only to it. You are rain, my beloved, pouring down, my monsoon, demonstrating your strength, the force of your being.
My love for you grows as quick as bamboo. My love is as handsome as mahogany, teak, and ebony. My love is as thick as rattan and liana. My love is a market, bins and baskets brimming with cucumbers, spinach, and eggplant.My love is a kite, a tiny flute hidden in its many wings so that it may sing out my love as it skips along the breeze.
I am a stick of incense, burning for you, reaching up, up, up towards the sky, caressing your cheek.
When I met you, it was like the new year. I swept the tomb of my heart, paid my debts, and decorated myself as welcome, enticement, and celebration.
I am a child, carrying a lantern on an early autumn morning. Watch my lion dance, my beloved, see how fierce I am, parading through the village that is you and yours. I dance. I don a mask and tell you a tale and you give a mooncake filled with the fruits of your love.
This is me, my beloved, at the bottom of the ocean, still yours, still yearning, still waiting for reunion.