A whole day of travel
And you go to the other side of the mobile
I touch the second pillow
Nada starts to break my branches.
People gossip about space
People discuss about place
How space and place shred the travellers, the migrants, the exiles
But isn’t it time that cuts and hurts as like as the place?
Which pain is thicker than the one
That gives you the feeling of being unloved when craving?
Which anguish is creamier than the one
that gives you the feeling of remaining untouched when yearning?
The sun creamily rises to my world
The sleepy Jacaranda sheds their dreamy lethargy
Two possums stream over the electric rods
I design my breakfast plate
Two square bread, an oval egg, a green avocado, a triangular cheese
And finally a clear-cup coloured tea
You are absent
You are unreachable
Night seeps into your world at that time
The moon is teary-shiny over the streets
Sad-faced owls roam the sleepy woods
A mosquito net embraces your bed
A deep breath puffs your body up and down up and down
You are absent
You are untouchable
My hair cries Nada
My fingers tremble shunnota
My eyes shine emptiness
I pack my lunch
I push my laptop inside the pouch
I lock the door
Walking to the bus station
Awaiting the sun (and you)
to rise in my life.
Awaiting the mobile (and you)
to ring in my love.
……×……
Umme Salma, Toowong, 27 August 2025.
Salma Seclusion 