the first and the last are lost to us
Tag: loss
Every evening
conversations at the bus stop
to love is to lose
for a brief moment
stumped
ice cream soda dreams
grandpa was not richbut bestowed us a fortuneof sweets, chocolate coinsor twenty cents to buy our own.grandpa was not richbut gave us our first wheels,scavenged from spare partsracing corridors, pounding hearts.grandpa was not rich,but he made butter sugar dreamsandwiches, washed down ice creamsoda at a rental flat in Ghim Moh.grandpa was not rich,but he always… Continue reading ice cream soda dreams
land-line
In the dorm stairwell hung a public phone where each week I'd call home. Each call a litany of hellos and reports of health and weather, food and whether I had enough money as the phone burned pound coins per minute till I found international calling cards at the corner shop and talk became cheaper,… Continue reading land-line
Tracing an outline
It collects in pockets, on the edge of photo frames, the sediment of sentimentality. It gathers in the stillness of breath waiting for your finger, to trace an outline. Cleaning is an exercise in utility, every obliteration a momentary rejuvenation time-travelling back to before we were old, to before there was just dust. Background:… Continue reading Tracing an outline
