After Ocean Vuong
Nathanael, don’t be afraid.
The day of your death is so far away
it has already been forgotten.Â
Don’t lose sleep. Your past is only your past
until you enter your future. Like how the scar
cannot recall its creation
despite how often you caress
its ridges and borders. Nathanael,
do you understand? The best-loved
fragment of yourself residesÂ
in your loved ones’ memories.
Here’s the country with adolescence
sliced into a slur spat onto the blackboard.
Don’t lose sleep. Just call it ignorance
& you will feel no pain.
These days you quail. I swear
it’s temporary. Here’s the woman
whose hands are sufficient to soothe
your exile, & here the age,
just being born, when acceptance
winks beyond the horizon.
How you crave it constantly,
bursting to achieve belonging.
You sought a homecoming
& received a temporary dwelling.
Don’t be afraid. The silence
is only the absence of friends
who chose to move on and live
without you. Nathanael. Nathanael –Â
arise. The best-loved fragment
of yourself resides inside. & remember,
homesickness is love
metastasized. There’s the home
you once inhabited.
The ghosts of your friends drifting
across your skin
like sediment. Here’s a blank
page with terra nullius
to invade. Yes, here’s blankness
so cold & white-skinned,
I insist, you will occupy
& populate every centimeter
with words.
Nathanael O'Reilly
Nathanael O’Reilly is an Irish-Australian poet. His collections include Landmarks, Selected Poems of Ned Kelly, Dear Nostalgia, Boulevard, (Un)belonging and Preparations for Departure. His poetry appears in 125 journals & anthologies published in 15 countries. He is poetry editor for Antipodes: A Global Journal of Australian/New Zealand Literature. (Headshot by Celeste Jenkins-O'Reilly)