SELECTED POEMS

All Our Clocks

5
We were always running on different clocks.
Lost in the trance of signboards fluttering
their eyes open to fresh destinations,
leaping into carriages as doors stuttered close.

You charged through a clash of schedules,
and caught me in the window
of a passing train: only seconds before
the gasp of speed drew a whistle from air.

4
For you, a kernel of a second is all it takes
for the Soul to leap in recognition
of its long-lost half. To pulse in morse,
to steer the stubborn ship of the Body
into a course of certain collision.
To exuberate in flags dashes dots:
Here! You're safe. I'm here.

But Love must brew over a thousand
years, in penitence and rebirth, dull
lifetimes as rocks. All to churn
tide in our favour, turn wind
toward sail, to winnow infinity into
a singular possibility—our heads
falling on the same pillow.

3
Sleep does not come to me, so I sit
sentinel over yours, tuned to
the nocturnal hum of your body,
vein-blue vibrations plumbing under skin.
I imagine you going silent—orbs
of blood held in suspension, downy
hairs on your cheeks turning waxen.

The seam between us spreads,
becomes a heaviness hung
across two islands, a cloud
I cannot scry. I sharpen my longing
for you into a dart—piercing
an emptiness so thunderous
that when I finally slip
to sleep, I leave all doors ajar.

2
What did I ever say to you that hadn't yet
been said in the history of love?
Tripping proclamations of teenagers
tossed from candy-pink balconies,
furtive professions in alleys—lips laced
with liquor, blaspheming in bed,
silence wisping around us
as we shrug off our silhouettes.

I am counting down now:
hollow nothings spoken to seal
igneous rifts, the last rubbed-down
token of affection in pockets
of the married. Those desperate slurrings
of need—don't leave. Words the loved
and their lovers so often abuse—
here, forever, trust, truth.

1
Our mistake was believing
this time was our turn,
that time was ours to turn.

All around us, time's rubble—
stilled quartz, slackened springs,
a constant ticking in my bones:

my memories outrunning
the past, transmuting into
stormy prophecies of our end.

If the flutter of a second hand
should take us to a different life,
I will know the way to you by heart,

certain as the comings and goings
of a train. But now, before our dials
run down and we pulse to black,

look me in the eye and savour
how extraordinary our hour.

by Amanda Chong
from Professions (2016)

 

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