It is a glorious city
Fear is the word I speak into the night when the
walls are shaded and receding.
Darkness does not chafe the soul, only cusps
it in its wake. The little island, gleaming city-state
louche concrete being with a tarried heart,
glistening only to bring despair
onto the bereaved.
A taut rope bound snaps
somewhere under all this aching.
How many faces are disfigured
till they see that we too can live?
How many more nights gone where
moonlight ambles my only way home,
head heeded, professed by thoughts
too many to spill? I see
too much of you in every
stray puddle, too much of the
the ragged edge of your shoulder in the
outlines on these backlit buildings
too much of your tousled hair in
the shadowed fronds of the angsana.
I see too much of you, forgive me,
too much to beg “How long?
How long oh glorious city?”
Apostrophes pockmark my journey onwards.
My Country’s Knives
My country’s knives are not
the glistening blade, sheathed under wraps of cloth,
sturdy brown handles that snug into palms.
My country’s knives when thrust do not leave gaping holes
on the underside of the abdomen
where virulent bloodshed pours.
My country’s knives are sharpened with belts and canes
with nagging and blame palms have no hold.
It is the tongue that finds its crevice
encasing, enfolding, and taut the grip.
Knives when thrust do not stab but slash
negligent marks of red imprinted, tattooed on its victims.
Where blood would flow its absence is met by
tears alone which dribble down olive skin.
Oh the scars, the scars
hurt more than any blade can imagine
leaving heavyweight, imprisoning senses.
In my country vernacular overturned
knives are synonymous with the harrowing gaze of failure,
punishment is borne from dismay.
In my country when knives cut
it is the heart that aches.
Elliot Ng is a young Asian writer from Singapore. He is a lover of the arts and a self-proclaimed romanticiser of life. Focussing on identity and culture, his works have been published in Ricepaper Magazine and are borne out of raw 3 a.m. thoughts and sudden existential epiphanies on the toilet seat. You can reach him at @couchedellephant on Instagram