FREEWRITING EXERCISE #102

In recent months I have been
abandoned by sadness. More
accurately, I have left her behind.
No more the plucking of leaves
from her overgrown crown, her
laurel of memory. She would not
let me go – a root, tangled around
an arm. My fingers planted in
the bark. As a trade, I had to cut
off my tongue, toss it away. Only
then, could I recognise the future.
Like a door out of nowhere opened
into a garden, and you reading
quiet under the shade. I plant
the seeds of speech in the bed
of my mouth. So much of my words
are poisoned. Everything runs dry.
I have been waiting for months
for something to bloom anew.
I pull a finger from the tree.
Ink, sinew, sap, blood.

Filed under: Freewriting, Poetry

by

A member of Singapore-based writing collective /stop@BadEndRhymes ("/s@ber"), Valen dwells in the swamp of poetry. He has been published in various publications, including Anxious Poets Society, Eunoia Review and Quarterly Literary Review Singapore. He has performed his work at the Arts House, the Singapore Art Museum, and in various dingy bars.

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