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28) Shopping

  • Writer: Su Naychi
    Su Naychi
  • Aug 25, 2021
  • 1 min read

I touched it: plastic

A shining streak of gold

Pierced my weak eyes

Black, white,

Midnight, moon,

Vocabularies thrusted upon me

Rhetoric sang my ears burst

Buried me in their ambient presence

I wriggled, comforted by the uncomfortable height.


- Naychi





Late 2018

A shopping mall somewhere in Yangon

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