You are as close as the twitch on my eye while I sleep.
A breath and shiver in a frostbitten dream.
The quiver on my lip as your name hides behind my teeth.
These thoughts would not leave.
The crack in my voice becomes a chasm.
The distance between us does not separate.
I would murder the man who made a mind-reading machine.
Destroy all evidence that would incriminate.
On cloudless nights, when I am caught
in the depth and darkness of the skies,
I would spill my heart if you asked.
Like moonbeams cutting through city lights.
Point a questioning finger in the face of God,
Did you not say, Prophesy?
These words that drip from my heart;
Are they not yours?
Give me your yoke, and
teach me wisdom, your politic
Show me how to take the dust, the darkness,
and turn it into something good.
- Daryl Goh
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