2017. április 7., péntek

Cyril Wong: Last Line

we wished when we were younger
that we might retire in time
you would read books on religion
I would write poetry full time

how impossible in Singapore
although we hunt for time
you read over lunches or late at night
I write when my boss isn’t looking

in that real dream of our past
we had nothing but time
you watched your documentaries
I dreamt of poems on your lap

in a quickening dream of now
we turn away from the fringes of time
you read while stroking my nape
I slow your hand in my poem’s last line

when strung together in a particular fashion.

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