by Suji Kwock Kim
     I don't mean to make you cry.
     I mean nothing， but this has not kept you
     From peeling away my body， layer by layer，
     The tears clouding your eyes as the table fills
     With husks， cut flesh， all the debris of pursuit.
     Poor deluded human： you seek my heart.
     Hunt all you want. Beneath each skin of mine
     Lies another skin： I am pure onion——pure union
     Of outside and in， surface and secret core.
     Look at you， chopping and weeping. Idiot.
     Is this the way you go through life， your mind
     A stopless knife， driven by your fantasy of truth，
     Of lasting union——slashing away skin after skin
     From things， ruin and tears your only signs
     Of progress？ Enough is enough.
     You must not grieve that the world is glimpsed
     Through veils. How else can it be seen？
     How will you rip away the veil of the eye， the veil
     That you are， you who want to grasp the heart
     Of things， hungry to know where meaning
     Lies. Taste what you hold in your hands： onion-juice，
     Yellow peels， my stinging shreds. You are the one
     In pieces. Whatever you meant to love， in meaning to
     You changed yourself： you are not who you are，
     Your soul cut moment to moment by a blade
     Of fresh desire， the ground sown with abandoned skins.
     And at your inmost circle， what？ A core that is
     Not one. Poor fool， you are divided at the heart，
     Lost in its maze of chambers， blood， and love，
     A heart that will one day beat you to death.