“Quantum Entanglement” by Xiaoly Li1 min read

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mirror each other
no matter
how far apart.
The butterfly,
the philosopher Zhuangzi —
who became the other?
The light turned on
by nobody at midnight,
when Grandfather passed away
a thousand miles afar.
My dear child,
when I hold my tongue,
I still talk to you.
I search for my mirror—
climb mountains,
walk rivers,
even cross the Atlantic ocean.
I make photo art,
write poems.
dig deeper to look for
near or far.

Xiaoly Li is a poet, photographer and former computer engineer who lives in Massachusetts. Prior to writing poetry, she published stories in a selection of Chinese newspapers. Her photography, which has been shown and sold in galleries in the Boston, often accompanies her poems. Her poetry is forthcoming in J Journal and Up the River and appeared in Off The Coast and Gravel.  

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