place / memory

the golden tea

biscuits we dipped

into lukewarm milk

are no longer sold

at the market we’d

go for noodles at breakfast

has been demolished, upon

it’s land; now stands

a vertical uproar

of striking concrete.

once a pocket of

convenience for our

neighbours and friends has

been trudged into dirt

and grind. where

do we go, when a memory

we hold dear, resides only

within a place; it’s existence

perished as a result

of adulterated thought; a

claim for fame.

 

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