I wish I could live in a soap sud
And swirl in the off-white basin
Lit above by three bulbs:
Two warm and one broken
I would rise and fall and ride the thin film of water
Buoyed in a kaleidoscope of colors
But there’s a tremor in the delicate walls
Because a voice booms behind me
化学的东西不是好的
My own, much quieter
You’re wasting time
So I turn on the faucet
And let the stream of water drown them out
Once again I reach for the iridescent pink liquid soap
1-2-3-4-5
Once again I reach for the iridescent pink liquid soap
1-2-3-4-5
Once again I reach for the iridescent pink liquid soap
1-2-3-4-5
Then I dry my hands on my pink washcloth
Before retreating to my room with its pink curtains
Where I sit criss cross applesauce to confront
The piles of paper on the unforgiving porcelain floor
Is this how Psyche felt while sorting seeds?
As I wait for the stream of ants to save me from my thoughts
Deep, branching grooves spawn on my knuckles
Where blood seeps to fill the channels
So yeah, sometimes
I do wish I could live in a soap sud

– Sandy Yang