A letter to be unread, unturned, unenveloped
A letter buried under suspicions three storeys high
A letter not a love letter but an appeal
to forge a connection
between hands
between minds
between lips
between eyes
between bleeding hearts
my hankering after
your affection
your attention
your indulging my layers of sicknesses
my infidelity
and finally my insufferable need for
your attention
your indulging my infidelity
and my need for
your witnessing my drifting away, returning back and
the push and pull of animal instincts
human constructions, deconstructions and
breath turned stale, rancid thoughts once dispelled now back with a vengeance to fill up terrible void of sanity


Nothing so noble as love
Nothing so strong as infatuation

but a whimpering a flirting after that elusive moment of utter togetherness which I believe should render me whole again Moment of complete abnormality and fantastic departure from life as I should could expect it to be or to offer Letter-less realm of technicolour bliss union is my unspeakable, untranslatable wish






Woke up early for a whiff of the morning breeze. Cool air sent shivers down my spine. Lots of work due today but I'm up to it. Mentally I feel I could do a thousand somersaults. I finish a carton of soya milk, in well-savoured sips. Right out of the fridge, unsweetened. Best drink in the world. Skip out of the door, my Volkswagon beatle awaits faithfully. I warm it up. Mandarin pop plays. The grooves carry me and my car along. Time is a long long ball of yarn rolling down the streets of K.L.

Reach work. I catch a glimpse of boss with his permanent scowl. No fear. Negative feelings at work are countered by thoughts of him who loves me. I love him. Knowing he's alive gives me the power to concentrate and accomplish. I'm always productive, I hardly feel exhausted,and when I do, it feels great, like the aftermath of a perfectly executed tennis match.

Lunch-time. I have wings. I choose the quaint Japanese restaurant a street away. Miso-soup, sushi and a lovely hot Japanese pizza. Back at work,my mind whirls like a mac. In two hours, I complete the report at hand. I figure I deserve my pay. I call mum. She's lovely as usual. I am content knowing she is happy. The clock strikes 5pm. I leave work.

Dinner was the most satisfying Vietnamese stew, I stroll about the garden. Malaysia, lovely at this time of day. I have a good view of the tropical sunset and of the undulating hills snuck neatly behind the houses. I am holding on to his hand. We've loved each other for a long time. He is smiling. I say a prayer of thanksgiving. I pray that my life isn't a dream, or should it be a dream, that I'd never wake up; or, should I wake up, that he would still be around.

The stars above sing me a lullaby. I forget my requests and slip warmly into slumber. Dad pecks me at the cheek. Eight hours pass by gently. Angelic cherubs whisper to me secrets of the universe. I dream of rainbows, pots of gold, and the unblemished life.