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.