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Arms glisten like sand

Eyes look away from faces

Knees go berserk

Heels ready for arrows

In Singapore,

I whip up frothy spirits and pose touristy, liberated.



My fancy for Maugham

seclusion, sloth, peninsula

is dry and salty.

If you remind me

About two wars

And a prison

I finish off the pamphlet

In five minutes

Savour beaches

Like slices of coconut

Stare at bunkers

And ferry across river banks as if they were my own.



Then I share pictures of clean, clean slates.

Can you see the mark on my left arm,

An island in this island?




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