"At Some Point In Life My Favourite Author Was Haruki Murakami", Pamela Seong Koon
a beach mourns the sand stuck in the front of my shoes.
i don't remember this.
at a diner i flinch at the likeness of your name.
just one letter off. i look for this letter in my shoes.
outside, a man cups his hands in front of his face and kisses the window.
a television provides a way out to never-ending slumber,
and in exchange, a never-ending live feed
of my body rising and falling.
how perverse, the internet and its stubbornness.
every story is a text and a reel in a cloud.
it rains suddenly. all phones made in
singapore turn themselves off and fall to the floor in unison.
they protest their workload and depleting battery hold
and how they were made to die.
come and get me, i remark to the man at the window.
like every girl lusted before me, i am also made to die.
i visit the beach again to remember how terrifying a name can be
and a broken television loops itself.