Tanka Writing Roundtable • Spring 2024
Dr. Randy Brooks

Non-Linear Loving
A Tanka Collection

by
Skylyr Choe

Non-Linear Loving is a collection of tanka meant to explore the intricacies of a relationship doomed to fail from the beginning. Though deliberately ordered, these tanka aren't meant to tell you a clear story—rather, you gather bits and pieces of this relationship through each of these snippets in the form of alternating perspective tanka.

I wanted to deliberate on the type of people this relationship belongs to, but ultimately decided to allow the reader to make those assumptions and fill in those blanks instead. In the end, it's an unfortunate tale, but one that leaves you pondering.

Reader's Introduction:

The tanka in Non-Linear Loving explores a variety of human experiences. Despite how destilled the tanka are, each poem summarizes and captures universal circumstances that bring forth gut-wrenching emotions. These little moments show the best and worst of life, oneself, and others, offering readers an uncensored verstion that we are often too afraid to admit. This collection delicately addresses the parts of life we are mant to love while also struggling with love itself, hence the title "Non-Linear Loving." ~ Eden Niebrugge

birds sing their songs
in the early mourning
quiet hours
while I choke on the perfume
of your funeral flowers

greasy takeout
after a shitty day
crack open
an empty cookie
how unfortunate

sitting at the bar
a man drones to my left
rubbing alcohol
would taste better
than his words do

from afar
she says she watched me
silently pining after my heart
like a mouse in a trap,
I was none the wiser

chalk smears across paper
dirty fingers
tracing
where they wish
they could still touch you

pointing out clouds
in the summer sky
train whistle in the distance
your hand in mine
as we lay ourselves to rest

taking off the new dress
like a flickering candle
her heart
wavers
another rain check

fingers crossed
behind your back
as you promise
that you’ll love me
forever

little girl on
the family’s photo wall
unhappier each year
until her photos finally
disappear

was it always so obvious
        that I had fallen
              for a lie?
     Fool me once, twice,
I still don’t learn my lesson

punching the mirror
won’t change the way
the monster it reflects
smiles back at
me

sleeping in
until noon
the depression
in my bed
holds me close

stroke
for stroke
black ink stains
the folds of
my soul

counting the bruises
I regret letting in
your carnivorous heart
        it tears into me,
                hungry for love

dressed in black
an old boy sits
and can’t understand
why his owner
won’t wake up

with so much being
taken away
what have I to lose
by finishing
what you’ve started?

sneaking a little note
or word of encouragement
into my planner
she never fails
to surprise me

bathed in moonlight
I bid her
one final goodnight
with soft fingers
grazing her headstone