by Michael Leong

hey! what are you doing
           begone, the night should not gather here
           disperse your images of
           me clutching you tightly, arm wrapped
           like saran around your waist, warmth
           bubbling up like a barnacle on the seabed.
           go away, memories of dim quiet
           worlds past as war heroes of the night
           sing their battle hymns, golden saxes
           bouncing off the walls as our faces almost touch.
           stop distracting me, I’ve been changing the pictures on my wall, the old, long
ones have been
           cluttering up my hallway, gathering dust, pulling me in.
           once again I find myself alone, looking at the wall of the two of us – funny, I
could have sworn I’d cleared it only yesterday.