mourning is a long morning
of everything glazed over silence.
breath smoother than water,
thoughts slower than prayer.
longing is an empty room with no ceiling,
whole shape faded over into
one name.
Zhao Yushan is a penultimate year Literature and Sociology double-major at the National University of Singapore. After reading one of her poems during her literature class, she was approached by fellow aspiring writers to form a little creative writing circle, with whom she shares words, whims, and waffles. She loves trees, cats, words, music, admiring large bodies of water, being hopelessly cheesy, and the short story collection “The Bus Driver Who Wanted to be God” by Israeli writer Etgar Keret.