Poems | Ginny Hwang, Yasmin Binte Mohd Sani

Image | Zhai Qiutong

Foreword, by Elle Cheng Li Ling

Here, let ‘hopeless romantic’ be a misnomer. Love is far from devoid, but brimming with bated breaths and optimism for the future. In BLUE. the vast fields of possibility are ours to run through, an end being one of them but that’s no matter — we’ll look upward. And in the meantime be comforted in the midst of a steady embrace, the present moment enough, enveloped In Your Strata. 

BLUE.

more like cobalt, 

cobalt-filled visions of winding rivers where lovers lie—

under the pink dimming sun that races into nightfall—

breathing beyond childhood baptisms,

         chasing highs with flesh on flesh,

                     dreaming, dreaming fevers of damned art

                             erupting against the deep azul above their heads.

you sang in Blue as you held onto dreams

as if they were material:

         your fingers hugging waves of indigo,

                     melted into the necks and bodies of porcelain vases

                                 (careful and soft as you wrap your hands around slender necks

                                             not quite stifling, 

but comforting with the warmth of gentle touches.)

you slept amidst the smell of tobacco cigarettes,

dancing fumes from dying flames,

reminding you of old homes now gone;

(it is okay because this One promised to stay.)

you are okay.

open your eyes:

the sky’s still blue.

    ~ Ginny Hwang

In Your Strata

Time passes differently in the crevices of moss-stained stones. 

Freckled sunlight trickles in,

Bathed us in honey’s tint. 

A room of one’s own, steeped in sapphic overtones.  

She was a knitted blanket lovingly woven; whose fabricated affections were anything but. 

Just as a Russian doll does, I’ve nestled myself into the small of your chest, a lonesome sap in aspen’s caress. 

I yield to your touch. 

The unfurling of our persons, I wish we could preserve in amber.  

What if we moved at a snail’s pace? 

With our fears of love in tow, 

Diluted by tongue in cheek quips. 

For now, let’s focus on holding space, 

For us to exist and to grow. 

Though you should know, I still find myself staring at your lips. 

With you, I wish to be delicately intertwined. 

I need your loving, like the sunshine. 

    ~ Yasmin Binte Mohd Sani