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rouge

—Lindsay Li 

after Joshua Lavender’s “ni·loo (a personal definition)”


rouge

/roōZH/ 

No author's reading available.

noun 


1. the French word for “red” 2. what shuns the masculine or feminine 3. a) shedding plurality 

when morphing into English b) what surfaces each time you touch your chapped bottom lip and think you may be unkissable 4. an irrational suspicion that perhaps, your girlfriend plans to sell 

her engagement ring and flee to France 5. a non-smoking craving for cigarettes and rosewater 6. 

a sudden melancholy memory of the Little Prince’s rose 7. a desire to eat the rose and watch the 

child cry 8. the pang that comes with the news of your sister’s pregnancy 9. an empty ache in 

your stomach that leaves you gasping into her apartment’s new cherrywood floor (i.e. an 

unfortunate case of appendicitis during your sister’s baby shower) 10. the taste of rubies and the wailing of infants in the hospital 11. the slight metallic name you whisper into your summer 

window in Marseilles, where the glass absorbs your breath with reluctant pity 12. cherries, 

overripe and spilling off trees into our palms 13. [of a spectator] the urge to share wine with 

your divorcée sister and rejoice without your eyes 14. [of a sibling] the urge to say it’s okay to 

her specter at night 15. [of a lover] the urge to say good night to her specter at night 16. the 

polite insistent wish for your father to leave your apartment when he visits with bagels in tow 

17. a) the irresistible urge to scrawl FUCK YOU with marker on the faded white walls of public garages b) the irresistible shame inside such a thought c) an impulsive overnight escape to 

France, with a note left behind for your father 18. three days of French lessons over mille-feuille 

with the locals 19. a stiff silence that accompanies a poem’s first draft when your drinking 

buddies read it b) mais pourquoi? 20. a manic night-episode, kneeling in the bathroom to stop bleeding with laughter and merlot 21. apologies like red stars burning out in the face of the sun

About

LINDSAY LI is a Chinese American writer from the Bay Area. In her free time, she goes down Wikipedia rabbit holes and writes too much about summer. Her work is published or forthcoming in Frontier Poetry, The Connecticut River Review, The Comstock Review, and more.

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