3.

Jessica YungPoetry

My blanket is an alpine range Snow-covered silks with dancing suns fresh from the sky just for the eve, an omelette of tourists on cotton sleeve. // Another day a bloodstained scene of war with flowers the size of fortresses, stalks streams flowing up the slope, vessels of thought, of dreamless sleep. // I poise my lens, a photographer capturing … Read More

2.

Jessica YungPoetry

The first tree to lose all its leaves and stand exposed to the hustling of others’s leaves, the rustle of warmth as it waves its branches in vain, wind strong enough to chill but not to let those fingers touch and feel its own existence – But it will perhaps hold first the golden chandelier when the spring comes. (Final … Read More

Stream of Consciousness

Jessica YungWriting

I was thinking of doing some stream of consciousness writing. A stream, a flowing stream not necessarily of water but of music, of lava, hot from the oven, hot from the heart, hot from the centre of the Earth, hot from the pot stirred most smoothly by the ladle of Time. But the consciousness that pours out is chaotic, regardless … Read More

1. Numb

Jessica YungPoetry

Your torso is a ladder against the back of the chair again. When did it sink this time? But it never falls past the awkward, never enough for you to lie down on the seat and float, gaze resting on the constellations in your eyes. (Imported from A.Symmetric Space, a side project I have now rescinded)