Rude to ask a lady her age,
her weight, how long
she’s haunted the emergency exit.
Long enough, is a long enough answer.
It is a passable home, dry, warmer
than slow-frozen off-white
offices. There have been no deaths
in this
building, no
skulls cracked or lungs
smoked for posterity. Only
her, a sensation of strange
company, nagging suspicion
you’ve forgotten
very important things about
not taking the stairs
before dawn/
after dark
no matter how fit
your heart.
She might have something
to say about that.
May Chong is a Malaysian writer of speculative fiction/poetry. Her verse has been recently selected for publication in Strange Horizons, Rambutan Literary, Undead: A Poetry Anthology (Apex Publications) and Little Basket 2017 (Fixi Novo). She tweets about writing, feminism and weird wildlife at @maysays.
