Amanda Chong (b. 1989)
SELECTED POEMS
Bloodsucker
It was Wednesday when the welts first bloomed.
A neat row across your chest. Blood specking
each dark heart. Our bedsprings sang a new
sickening tune. Whiffs of raspberry rot slinked
in like languid houseguests. I got on my knees,tapped door frames, furniture legs for echoes
of cavernous colonies. Boiled our pastel sheets
clean of roses. The bites came again, snaking
their way down your navel. I stripped you
naked at the door, beat out musk fromyour clothes, eggs latched in seams. We slept
with all the lights on, a machine rattling
ultrasound. You worked late. Each night
spent with me grew shorter than the last.
Bites girdled your pelvis. I strapped on a maskpulled apart the plump jowls of your favourite
armchair. Left the dog with the neighbours.
Then, our marital bed—tipped out twenty years
of conjugal bliss to the rag and bone man.
Stored the change he gave me in a tin.You moved out. “Darling,” insecticide noosed
my throat, "Are you still haunted by nymphs?"
Your absence fumed through our flat,
scouring all the rooms. I opened the windows.
Began anew. I never once found a bite on me.
by Amanda Chong
from Professions (2016)
