ritual

always the same: sleep
burrowed in the corners

of the eyes, thin pages
flipped in sacralised bed

song, stillness cradled and
rocked, mourned in the slow

descent past auburn fur, the
bitter of morning sips, teeth

enfolding, and the sun, lavish,
pouring on the flowing water.

Jonathan B. Chan is a student at the University of Cambridge. Born in New York to a Malaysian father and South Korean mother, he was raised in Singapore. He is preoccupied with questions relating to faith, prayer, and identity. He has recently been moved by the writing of Frank O’Hara, Li-Young Lee, and Charles Olson.

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