the window 

 after Federico Garcia Lorca 

when I die 

leave the window open

(I want to taste the rain

earth’s mingled musk)

the street corner man

tobacco plumes

(I need to hear his breath)

January plum blossom

heaven’s mouth

(I must feel it unfurl 

below my balcony)

when I die leave the window open

(for this bird 

rapping frantic 

inside my chest)

Nicole Callräm (she/her/她) is a nomadic bureaucrat whose work has appeared or is forthcoming in Five South, The Night Heron Barks, Allium, and Blue Earth Review. She is a poetry editor for ASPZ: A Shanghai Poetry Zine. She identifies as queer and is hopelessly addicted to soup dumplings. You can find Nicole atop a ride-share bike on the streets of Shanghai or at @YiminNicole.