30 April, 2020: Olivia Chung

Nipaluna/Hobart, Australia


minutes rolling into hours
pvc protection overlying
a world map held captive by my eyes
flinging themselves back and forth
from hobart to harringay
17390km of air which
feels stagnant here so my
mind rekindles the
energy of final moments away in
3pm afternoon sunlight
rippling silhouettes on your
linen bedsheets as i try to salvage
the blurred sensation
of your body contouring mine
 
weeks slowly stretching into months
sometimes if the sky is blue i’ll
sit outside watching the full sun
arcing perpendicular to the horizon
as it shortens its path day by day.
i dream of summertime reunification
south of the black sea and notice my
screen time has jumped up 237% from last year  
as my nights slip into my days or yours and
i switch airplane mode off
to catch your P3 free. or maybe my call will ring out
with broken wifi, miscommunication, misinterpretation
forcing me to pull my head
out of my phone and feel
what it’s like to live in the real world for a little
until diving back in again
 
and suddenly months snap into hours
panic buying one-way tickets as items are
hastily thrown into a case before
rising in the darkness of night chasing
forever shortening daylight towards
winter solstice as you  
flip your life 17390km
and bring lightness to mine
 


olivia (they/she) is a fourth-generation chinese-australian queer writing from nipaluna/hobart, australia, in the slow process of reconnecting with their long-lost chinese heritage. they miss going to the club.