June 16, 2020
Banksy, Mural of Migrant Child, spray can, Venice 2019 Photo: Lapo Simeoni

14 DAY ROMANCE WITH CORANTINE

day 0 (wed)
breathing in this mask makes me sleepy
my skin itches under the rubber gloves
the bus has been driving for three hours in my district
dropping all ten passengers at their designated quarantine locations
i am the last and i lost count of how many times the bus stopped

i am finally here
i walk out the bus and take out my luggage
a fully covered medical staff comes
sprays the disinfectant all over my body

the smell of 84 Disinfectant
is like a perfume
feel safe, alive, with desire i cannot name
just like a drug, i take a deep breath
to bring the air inside me

aphrodisiac of the latest trend
i drag my luggage into the hotel room
but my odyssey is over
i am back home

day 1 (thurs)
wake up at 4 a.m.
i want to leave
to rush out of this room
but i don’t know where i want to go
or where i am allowed to go

wish i had anxiety pills in my suitcase
i report my body temperature in the morning
chat on the phone all day
i want coffee and tea
i report my body temperature in the afternoon

day 2 (fri)
the foldable table i ordered online arrives
it’s blue
i set it up on my large bed
arrives also the small red bodum French press

i hold the coffee and walk around the room
the room smells like coffee now
fighting against the floating 84 Disinfectant air

the room faces north
my body is cold
my body temperature is warmer than usual
please don’t go above 37.3

day 3 (sat)
i search for places to go after this disaster is over – if it can ever be
there are so many places
temple tower next to the apartment
abandoned houses of Qing dynasty writers
shops that sell random cute animal shaped stuff that i really don’t need
the street in the southern part of the city to buy paper and ink
Mao’s mausoleum in the Tian’anmen square, which i have never walked in
the bar with date-infused whiskey and that cute mixologist for whom i have no desire

my daydream is interrupted
a notification on my cellphone beeps
i forget to report my body temperature at 3 p.m.
my armpit is demanding attention

i decide to make a home here.
they give me a bottle of 84 Disinfectant,
i wipe all the surfaces and spray the bathroom
this new perfume infuses my room
i take deep inhales one after another

then my period comes

day 4 (sun)
i can feel the flow from my uterus to my vagina
and then my underwear wet and stained
the cursed sign of genetic futurity
future, the most ridiculous word

mama asked the hotel staff to pass along a package to me
my old plush german mr. Frosch hot water bottle for the belly
a container of blueberries for the tummy
dark chocolate, scissors, taps,

and some ginger brown sugar cubes
i dissolve it in hot water and drink it
it will make menstruation flow better and reduce pain
i can feel the warm flow
mouth, throat, chest, stomach, uterus, vagina, pants
blessed, cursed, woman

lying in bed with warm mr. Frosch
the medical staff are spraying 84 Disinfectant again in the hallway
i think of the swimming pool
my body is flowing and penetrated by the chlorine air
what day is today

day 5 (mon)
knock knock 8 a.m. the breakfast is here
my conscious surges up from my dream
i jump out of the bed and check the sheets
no blood, thank goddess

sleepy again after breakfast
i wrap the comforter around me and roll on the bed
what i did every morning when i was a child to refuse to get dressed
i jump out of the bed and check the sheets
no blood, thank period napkins

i post online that i am in quarantine and welcome people to order snack delivery to me
my elementary teacher sends me a gigantic box of stuff
overwhelmed and touched i roll on the bed
i jump out of the bed and check the sheets
no blood, good job darling

it’s day five
and life is flowing

day 6 (tue)
i wake up early and then watch an anime,
an erotica between teenager twins
there is a scene when they bike to the beach
i think of the breeze and the hot sand last summer
we were kissing on that stormy midnight, and the hands

i am hungry and the breakfast arrives
the plastic bag that holds the food still drips with 84 Disinfectant spray
i inhale as i unwrap
insatiably delicious

they cut off the light in the bathroom
the switch shares the same circuit with the central ventilator
my potential viral air won’t bother others
other potential viral air won’t annoy me

mom brought berries and bras
a candle, incense sticks, and a pink lighter
they probably do not allow burning here

day 7 (wed)
half of my quarantine romance is over
but it just starts getting romantic
i light the candle and place it in front of the mirror
the flame dances around my stomach
i look at the nipples, always too flat
i like ones that protrude
some new hyperpigmentation dots on my forearms
they make me frown
i shower and blow out the candle
need to economize the wax

monstera, snake plant, English ivy, golden pothos
i miss my plants, what is my American housemate doing right now?
i miss her. i draw a plant with my highlighters
tape it on the boring white wall, welcome to Yusi’s palace

i turn on the tv and spend an hour browsing
try to work and give up
give up and make coffee
make coffee and try to work
try to work and give up
dinner arrives and i turn on the tv again

day 8 (thurs)
the bag of fuji apples are gone now
refresh the page again to check the number of confirmed cases
another Italian nurse got infected and committed suicide
the Chinese egg crêpe in the breakfast reminds me of grandmama
she makes the best egg crêpe
always cracks an extra egg on top just for me
for the first time i am glad she is gone
she is liberated, not suffering from this virus and us fools

9 a.m. time to test my temperature
35.8?
i put the milk my elementary school teacher sent by the window
but the temperature is getting higher each day
the milk has turned to yogurt

i brew coffee three times with my French press
think i could be productive
everyday there is a chicken dish in the meal and a boiled egg
is Asclepius ever satisfied?

every night i put the garbage bag outside
by the door of my room
today it is heavy, with four bottles of sour milk
everything from my room is treated as medical contaminants

day 9 (fri)
refresh the page again
the US always likes to lead
cellphone time, sweet gift, great curse
i miss my house and friends in Philadelphia
WhatsApp and Facebook, thank you VPN

some colleagues of mine write they feel unwell
they suspect they have mild symptoms
one has difficulty breathing
i think i freak out more than they themselves do

it is windy today
whoosh, whoosh, the bathroom stinks
i burn an incense
mama only sent few sticks, each burn is precious

the cherry blossom smell soon fills my room
scent of a Buddhist temple
so calm, but i itch for something else
i spray 84 Disinfectant again

the sun goes down
i browse for colors in trend, and delete the email app
i want the color of sunset on my hair
as a child i hated hair salons, smelled like rat poison
now i want it, just like 84 Disinfectant

day 10 (sat)
yeah, day ten four more days
my presence is marked
hair on the bedsheet, on the floor, in my flipflops
i want to clean my room

i ask them to give me a new set of sheets
i put on my mask and rubber gloves
so much hair under the fitted sheet
some are not mine, they’re someone else’s
feel like ants crawling in my hair when i pick them up
i spray 84 Disinfectant on the bed and then take a long shower

sit on the bed in front of the folding table
all the things i aimed to finish during quarantine
did none, started none
the most productive thing is this romance

i am disappointed in myself, and yet
just so damn proud of being unproductive
i call the mental health line
a number for people who are in hotel quarantine

it is a middle age woman and i can hear her child in the background
she asks me if most of my stress comes from university
she thinks my local community’s decision for choosing this hotel for quarantine is inconsiderate
thank you i really needed this comment, i take a deep breath
i am surprised by the increasing mental health awareness in China
good job, coronavirus

facetime with Mo from berlin
he invites me to share my quarantine life in an episode of zoom public forum
sheltering places: thinking on the covid 19 pandemic
feel useful for the first time in 2020

join a zoom party hosted by my middle school friend Roy who lives in Japan now
he grew up and matured, i like when he laughs
sounds still like the baby boy and reminds me of our adolescence
times when we were all too naïve and sincere
we daydreamed about healing the world in QQ online chatrooms when school closed in 2011 due to H1N1
my middle school crush before puberty arrived, and i pretended i knew love

for the first time i feel sleepy before midnight
i can’t fall sleep.  i keep thinking about those hairs
i feel they are going to sprout through the sheet and grab me
i get up and put the bottle of 84 Disinfectant on the nightstand

day 11 (sun)
i wake up and refresh the page to see the numbers
i am scared, the realization that i am getting numb at those digits
what’s the point of me caring about my western friends and colleagues?
a friend was surprised and in disbelieve when i told him
none of my friends in China got the coronavirus or were hospitalized or died

i can’t participate in the zoom forum because of the time difference
i record a video for Mo, i have four takes. i am anxious
i don’t want to be labelled as a nationalist. i am not that
don’t deduce me, don’t reduce me

i regret cleaning the room yesterday
the hair under the sheets haunts me
lingering like the ghostly woman with long tangled black hair in Hokusai’s print
The Mansion of the Plates, please don’t swallow my soul

my soul, not an organic cage-free product
i sprayed 84 Disinfectant around my bed skirt
oh, seduce me

day 12 (mon)
the mental health hotline center calls me to follow-up
it is a man on the phone, i ask his name
he says everything must be anonymous
i tell him that i cleaned the room and hung up a drawing
these activities release dopamine, he says

i find random topics to chat with him
i am not anxious today, but i want to chat with somebody
somebody who doesn’t keep telling me to follow the government guidelines
the bureaucratic tone, the Beijing specialty and souvenir
i wonder what he looks like, is he talking to me with a facemask?

i usually go outside and take aimless walks when i am upset
the room is so tiny that walking around the bed is difficult
i found videos of legs and abs exercise to do on the bed
losing weight is forever a hot topic here, all vloggers look the same to me
chopstick legs, big eyes, long lashes, pale powdered skin, filtered camera lens

earlier in the quarantine i made friends with my neighbor
we become chat friends on WeChat, she studies opera in England
i ask her to sing songs from Eason Chan and Les Misérables
her voice is so beautiful, i imagine what she looks like
we agree to get coffee together after our quarantine is over

day 13 (tue)
my aunt and uncle tell me to do some jumping
don’t worry about breaking the bed
i take out my sports bra and put it on to do some exercise
my boob’s freedom is over

i was obsessed with bras when i was six
i loved to put on my mama’s bras in the morning and pretended i grew up
when my boobs started to grow, i was so happy to shop for my first bra
when i realized i would have to wear this painful thing forever, i was sad and grew up

now i just lament on the money i spend on bras out of my student stipend
i love to look at other women’s boobs, especially in films
Audrey Hepburn’s sleep position in breakfast at tiffany’s looks beautiful but uncomfortable
other women’s boobs are always better than mine

the building across my quarantine hotel is a restaurant
i like to watch them around six o’clock in the evening
more people are coming out for dinner, most are old men
they all dine with an extra table apart, a few smoke cigarettes

i am leaving tomorrow night at 10:15 p.m.
my last night on this bed with hairs
this bed belongs to nobody but everybody
my hair has passed through the sheets and joined the team under
thank you, bed! i hope we never meet again
good night, i spray 84 Disinfectant one last night around my bed

day 14 (wed)
the last day of my quarantine
suddenly i want to do so many things today in this room
i feel there is not enough time today, only today
the breakfast food is salty as usual, very northern style

again, i procrastinate in the morning
after breakfast i watch an old drama show
brew coffee with my French press, then 11:30 a.m.
lunch arrives by my door, not hungry but i eat it all

got on Facebook and Twitter to see what is trendy among my western friends
a news reported that some rightwing Americans are organizing protests
stop the stay at home order because freedom for all, they cry out
the image of them carrying guns makes me laugh

laugh at myself who is so hopeful and hopeless
who had curiosity and fancy for democracy and freedom
and came to the States to study
the cradle of western civilizations, the discipline advertises
also said by my grandpa

i started packing
so much stuff, almost doubled
the foldable table, tupperware, Mr. Frosch, French press, all the snacks, and a box
sent from the community center to calm me down when i complained about the hotel situation

they gave me two dozen hangers and extra towels which i have no place to hang
a pair of mickey mouse slippers which i love and wear everyday
a bright lamp for the bathroom where there is no outlet
so much disinfectant gels and wipes

there are three things i can’t take away
the thermometer, the giant bottle of 84 Disinfectant
and two white cups whose body curvature is smooth and streamlined
topped with a lid, out of style

this type of cup is called the “victory cup”
it was designed for Mao in 1958 for the Party officials
but then it got popularized, appeared in all governmental and diplomatic meetings
and then in offices, hotel rooms, and in everyone’s home
my grandparent had a pair

i have a photoshoot with these three objects
pillows and sheets for frames
the room is the studio, i take off my clothes,
i put the put cup lids on my breasts and take a selfie
intimate time, all romance is destined to end short

10 p.m. the hotel staff messages me on a WeChat group
i can start packing and move out
once i came out from the quarantine labelled plastic curtain
i can never go back, so i make sure i don’t leave things behind

i come out and go to the reception table
pay the quarantine hotel fee and get my certification
the certificate will allow me to enter my community neighborhood
the hotel staff is kind and helps me carry my luggage to mama’s car downstairs

my romance ends
oh fuck, i left the box of mandarins i treasured
in the room by the windows
enjoy the sweet juicy citrus, babe.

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