Ocean Vuong

How a horse will run until it breaks

into weather—into wind. How like

the wind, they will see him. They will see him

clearest

when the city burns.

I didn’t know the cost

of entering a song—was to lose

your way back.

So I entered. So I lost.

If we make it to shore, he says, I will name our son after this water. I will learn to love a monster.