I was dancing in the dark, alone
to the howl
of a phantom piano
when the shamanic postman 
delivered your flashing obituary

The moon is a junkie’s orb
& the only dowry
I can leave at your altar,
glorious god
of absent, unsuspecting bodies

The peacemaker arrives
as capsules of glitter
on the naive wizard’s wagon
Look at his charms, how
poisonings are made joyful

When I awoke 
in the motorcycle’s dawn,
rising like potions from the 
sand dunes, were exploding nebulae,
butchered by sleeper satellites

Even before our last
batteries sang their swan song
Mayday, Mayday,
the river nymphs had dug memorials 
from cavernulous corals 
for bodies cocooned 
in uncharted vacuums

Today painkillers fill the void
of your solar system, steeped 
in the unrestrained gleam of a usurper
You are what the settlers pray to
& in your godless absence
I tread on this tenuous freedom

About Willow Kang

Willow is a writer from Singapore. After school, you can find her lounging about lazily, reading or listening to music.

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