Handel's

Yuting (she/they) 

We drove to Handel’s under gloomy sky
By the highway in suburban Indianapolis
For a four scoop sampler

Chocolate
Sweet like stolen candies from mother’s bureau
In the afternoon of a distant Chongqing summer
With buzzing air conditioners
 
Vanilla
Silky like the first kiss with a girl
A glimpse of dazzling fireworks
A spark of sealed desire
 
Coffee
Bitter like the espresso shot at Istanbul airport
Ridiculously small, alone, and confused
In the middle of flocks of passersby and never-ending boarding calls
 
Coconut
Cream white like the Newport Beach of June
The breeze salty, warm and tender
My lover’s hand that I held
 
One scoop
I woke up at my Ann Arbor apartment
From a dream of home, full of tears
But tears were just a long lost illusion
 
One scoop
I sprinted, slipped in a Jiefangbei roadside taxi
Flashing past my mother, holding back the sobs
After another fight over my sexual orientation
 
One scoop
I munched McDonald on Courtyard’s carpeted floor
Insomnia had me staring at the morning sky
Before the sophomore final examinations
 
One scoop
I saw her off at the Detroit airport
Eyes locked and unlocked until she drifted afar
Sentenced to another separation
 
In four scoops I swallowed my two years
When I finished, there was a downpour
In front of Handel’s, since 1945, older than my home country
And I recognized the dread of how America is unchanging
While home is fleeting