Loh Guan Liang
Neighbours ask if she is moving
and she says she is moving on.
They close their doors, cross
reference her alibi with the taped
boxes and black trash bags.
Outside, a shadowy interloper
drags more than its feet
down the corridor.
Between the louvres, a tear
in one bag reveals scandals
scribbled on university notepaper,
secrets double-slashed in the margins
to leave no lovers untouched.
A tipoff warns against red herrings,
that she is leaving behind
more than what she is letting on.
There is no escaping the private eyes
blinking, catching the glint of a trinket
and its blunt trauma on her marriage.
by Loh Guan Liang
from Bitter Punch (2016)