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(after A.)


you are the soil¹

not perception².


  1. you clamber out, off such long day, you find you tired. it is okay so. you can bury. you can bury yourself. you bury, there is work done there, here to be done here, right now. you… you feel the roar of history, lot of Fathers, the lot of dead Fathers and their spirits, and no more than that hangs. no more than you. your bones carried your soil, your soil that deserves, your precious. quartz, feldspar, mica, clay, oxides, bone, gristle, cartilage¹. precious yours.
  2. you no longer have image. in photos your cheek² sharpens, vectors. you can pierce flesh, hearts, brain, eyes. oh, you can be buried under words and you are still there, heavier and lighter than them. you are still there waving. you are still born. you who are born still, angular, burgeoning. your inverse gravestone. your chiral coffin. your hand to hold. your hand to roses. your hand to animals. your hand to soil.




¹ you have blockages and structures, pliant of grounding so

² curvature, out-of-sync, what you see and what you show soft

Lune Loh is a core member of /S@BER, a Singaporean writing collective. She is currently finishing an MA in Creative Writing (Poetic Practice) at Royal Holloway, University of London. Her works have been published in PANK Magazine, Evergreen Review, SOFTBLOW, Cordite Poetry Review, Cha: An Asian Literary Journal, among others.
Facebook: Lune Loh, Instagram: @omyhangu, Twitter: @omyhangu, WordPress:
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