the rain comes

and then it goes.

the air is sharp and still.
the water, calm until doppleganger
clouds break character, giggling, as trees
lean over the river and shake their bits dry.
meandering ducks split the horizon and I
realise that heaven is just mud and fish
but do not mind as daylight cracks overhead
and a passing bird I do not recognise
pierces the sky with a war cry. soon,
poached-egg sun spills its warm,
gooey center into our open mouths
and stains upturned cheeks.

just like yesterday, we do not care about
zigzagging between dead trees and shallow
water reeds as we hold our paddles up
like hungry children with giant spoons
ready to devour the entire world and
all of its wild in our very next breath
before we do it all over, again and again.

gaia in all her grace, gathers us around
her table. she feeds us with tailwind and
birdsong, nostalgic singalongs and echoing
rock walls. we savour every last scrap before
leaving with more sophisticated palates
for gratitude. nourished, the zing of woodfire
conversations and charred-stars remain,
inexplicable, on the tips of our tongues.

people come
and then they go.

the air is sharp and still.
the water, calm.


Eclipsed 心

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Photography: mxqqy (self)

I learnt my first 儿歌 over a
long-distance phone call as 妈妈
sat under the southern cross,
halfway around the world.

she sang about 一闪一闪的
小星星and I wonder if she
ever wished upon these flickering
lights to 再次 share the same sky
with the mother and daughter
she was forced to leave behind.

almost two decades later,
three generations 团聚在,
the same roof 下, but my
memories of 金色的 stars
cast across 陌生的 sunset
have become hazy, even
in slumber, my anglicised tongue
has become better at tying
knots into cherry stems than
imitating my grandmother’s songs.

Continue reading “Eclipsed 心”

stars, space & an empty place

paint_the_sky_with_stars_by_borda-d2hejtl.jpg
image courtesy of: borda

she remembers that night,
no stars dusted the evening sky
but their residual light
flickered in his wandering eyes
and how she desperately wanted to hold –
his gaze, hand or mind
for them to share a hazy moment
in suspended time

too bad
he was on the other side
of an unfamiliar room
filled with mutual strangers
maybe with enough imagination
they could have been
the newest constellation

already tenuously connected by
some star-struck fate,
but too scared or sober
to name this new feeling or shape
much less ask if he
maybe thought the same

it’s funny how
she has learnt all about
the grand, infinite universe
but her saturday night silence
still felt like the most empty
and hopeless space
that she has ever known