dear,
where have you gone?
buried in the morning
madness scrawled into
plain notebook by
dawnlight and candlelight?
my eyes are aching
seeking you in the
glow of these
screens
i see you somewhere
in the bits, in the R G B
i feel you in the warmth
the softness the held breath
and the sighs
you’re staying there,
there in the feeling moment
and i haven’t had the
heart to pull you up
from there and
splash you
onto the page
oh,
muse.
narinda heng 