i know it's annoying

to start a poem from its scissored-off title but

annoying is a word of many definitions like blue

can mean drowning   in well-deep despair

or cerulean blush   of a clear autumn sky

annoying   the sudden  soul-rash of swift

irritation  a sneeze (uninvited)   a bad habit

(quick-sighted)    a euphemism for

you knifed me    you bastard  a way to bleed

more nicely   or a way    to flag something

too bright to absorb    like my sister

to my mother sometimes at night:

you’re so pretty   you give me a headache

yes love  can be so damn        annoying

more simple   more compact

more calmly concrete   like chewing a wedge

of sundial   if you don’t have the mouth

to chew sun   a word   even strangers

can relish     Koreans I’ve loved

who fear English    like a snake

have held this burred word without harm

cracked its sweetness   like gold flesh

of chestnuts   in the winter   어노잉

uh-no-ing      a knowing     anointing

tremble of melody   belled in the throat

bare ankles tickled crimson by dogweed

soft-bristled, fine-toothed, persistent

you’re annoying: disorder of laughter,

dashed through by grief

you’re annoying: fuzzy frenzy

of restless and reel

you’re annoying: an anointing

of many-threaded hue—

covered well    dripping blood 

          dazzled sky 

Esther, an Asian woman, sits at the side of a bright reflective lake. She tilts her chin up looking to the left. She has long dark hair and smiles slightly.

Esther Ra is the author of A Glossary of Light and Shadow (Diode Editions, 2023) and book of untranslatable things (Grayson Books, 2018). Her work has been published in Boulevard, Rattle, The Rumpus, Korea Times, and PBQ, among others, and received numerous awards, including the Pushcart Prize, 49th Parallel Award, Vineyard Literary Award, and Women Writing War Poetry Award. (estherra.com)