A Room Full of Bottles, Leaves, Flung Clothes
Kristine Ong Muslim
something must always clink and crunch
in an empty room to make up
for the absence of its occupants
something must always linger
even as intangible as the weight
of a shadow or a laughter
A theory
Kristine Ong Muslim
Take note of the way the mirror
frowns when you look at it.
It just might tell you the truth.
Wind Dance
Kristine Ong Muslim
Her blessed shadows trailing,
she shifts to swivel and fill
the smallest of spaces.
No need to chart out her life
on maps and compasses
and laminated plastic cards.
She has only her journey to contend
and her destination to endure.
Everything else moves along with her.
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