From destruction comes creation;
through your words has my heart
dissolved into surreal, molten fiction,
from your voice has my fluttering soul
been afforded the magic to take flight,
and at your touch has my being
shattered into a million, tiny pieces
of which you collect, one by one,
akin to pieces of an unknown puzzle.
Intrepid explorer, you have ventured
forth into the uncharted ruins of me,
islets where others have never been;
an archaeologist unraveling time,
the threads of history and geographies,
creating life where flowers cease to be.
You take my hand, we dance in ruins;
to have found the question is truly
a supreme bliss – is all, is all, to me.
– Agnes Chew