Carriage

BY STARCKE LAM
*Special to asia!

 

His mouth.

Sorry, sorry, like ravens about my head.

Their feathers brushing about my lobes,

whispering cold into my ear.

I behold the edge of white coat, 

764

stethescope shine,

black watch.

 

The deadly hours.

 

No sea could have parted

its froth upon crests

trough dry bone

so i can pull you back

triumphant

as we skip past glassy walls

 

"Sign here, please. We must take it now."

 

I swam.

You, small like a seed,

the shine of your skin matted by death.

In my arm's crook,

I passed you on.

 

The water was still as ice. Still as nothing at all.

 

 

Starcke Lam lives in Singapore.