our only inheritance
is silence. i swallow poems
in the curve
of an invented shadow.
one a day, just
like a vitamin. one
capsule contains the word
‘lover’. dewy air rests
within the lungs.
one dose crumbles into
sweet sweet tea. it spills
over and over from
under a mattress and
atop a body. like a cold
drink of water. like
a liquid murmur. a poem
like an antacid for
longing. each dropping
into a gulf
of me.
Jonathan Chan is a writer and editor. Born in New York to a Malaysian father and South Korean mother, he was raised in Singapore and educated at Cambridge and Yale Universities. He is the author of the poetry collection going home (Landmark, 2022) and Managing Editor of poetry.sg. He has recently been moved by the work of Clint Smith, Pádraig Ó Tuama, and Dinah Roma. More of his writing can be found at jonbcy.wordpress.com.
Editorial Art by Dilara Sümbül
