Highs Tomo LVII, Bilang I:

Pursuit
Smog loops, touching stones.
Leaping prayers pursue Heaven,
barefoot on Earth.

Light
the northern star,
a hole through your hands;
tomorrow’s flight.

At the Amoy Lumpia House
pork / duck / oyster cake
love / lumpia

Warmer
I remember triangles, my toes,
my hair, holes. Naked moons,
consumed. Memory:
we hit the water.

Moving
Lost buildings, peddlers all.

–

for the pubroom