To Shanghai (一个è€å¤–去银行)
There was a time when I would sit by your banks,
In awe at the characters, pronouncing “silvered strings.”
You were a riddle, an ambiguous shape-shifting beast
That stretched and burned for the sky.
I thought that living inside you long enough,
I wouldn’t look at myself in the mirror and utter “old” or “foreign.”
The riddle has been solved. How wrong I was.