I Watched Her Die on TV

In ’88 I seduced her with my idealistic, American exchange-student politics, talking about Bush while fingering hers. I recall almond eyes, teacup breasts, and widespread thighs.

She had such high hopes.

In Tiananmen Square, she wore a white bandanna inscribed FREEDOM NOW because I’d promised democracy could make the Great Wall tumble down. I lied.

Does anybody else remember the students who died? Can you spare a tear for my lost china doll?

She was everybody’s sister, everybody’s lover—her bloodstained clothes the symbolic banner of our failures.

She wanted to set us free and we just watched on TV.

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