Issue 02
Singles Quarantined Lu Yang All the days and nights depart from my wet brows, Death harrows at my heels, The girls talk of being virgins still–– Love––a candy they had not chance to unwrap, Hidden sweetness they pocket in heart pits, Pity, pity! Their sharp eyes of dignity; Red lipsticks they put on only to be drinked down with instant coffee With ceremony. Those long forgotten gazes And not even the shadows of their crush to step upon. Far, far away, their shoulders, their soft hands, The magic of absence is burning low.
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