It has been quite an eventful day. On one hand: HALLOWEEN OH YES. My friends and I dressed up as characters from the television show Supernatural - it was certainly a lot of fun. On the other hand, there was a mild scare, since one of my friends' mothers called my parents in a frantic mess because apparently her daughter hadn't come home. It turned out to be a misunderstanding, though - she'd been sleeping obliviously in her room the whole time. Quite the Halloween scare!
But this week's Friday Poetry is one that I'm quite proud of - I wrote it a couple of days ago, and although I'm not sure the flow is quite right yet, I really like the ideas behind it. Besides, all work is a work in progress, no?
It's going to be a busy weekend for me - I'm attending the Singapore Writer's Festival on Sunday, specifically the PoemJazz event with former US Poet Laureate Robert Pinsky, so if anyone is going to be there as well, let me know! I'm quite excited - the event looks amazing, and I can't wait to see how it turns out!
Last Night I Dreamed I Was Drowning
you walk in and I’m half in love already: heart darting, flashing, one-two-three-four silent whispering drumbeats. you walk like a galaxy, like eternity. I am ice and you are fire, and snow and ash always did look much the same.
but you kiss with your eyes closed, hands roaming, searching. you kiss like an ocean and I try not to think too hard because if I do, I might drown in it. I can’t quite remember what lonely is, but I know it tastes like salt spray.
frost on your fingertips. smoke in my lungs. one-two-three-four drumbeats growing quicker. there are 100 billion stars burning down the milky way, but humans have chosen earth over heaven every time. looking at you, I think I know why.
because you walk like a galaxy and kiss like an ocean, and we both know that I would follow you to the crumbling edges of the earth. darling, I shouldn’t say it, but heaven seems so close and so far away. the taste of salt lingers in my mouth.
you are an unfinished poem, a wild thing, a miracle, and sometimes when the tide comes in and ships float like question marks on the horizon, I think perhaps the end is worth reaching.