Sped-up Diana Ross playing from the overhead

mini-speaker, iam gonnado itlike younever

knewit ohi’ll makeit throughthe timehas comefor

       me! in a fruit skewer shop, I kissed a man.

   He was 50 & an eddy of begging & I didn’t know

       my age; I was the best lover in Sukhumvit

and the worst thing it could offer you. Who

could fracture dolling into two, one for them

& the other cleaved breastlike towards my purse

       & I, but me & then you? I didn’t know

       Thai but it was fine, he was there for

        Asian(girl)s & I was just enough of one

but still the other, & so so beetroot purple

in all the parts that matter, i’mspreading

lovethere isno needto fearand ijust feelso

        good! & good didn’t really mean anything.

        He reached out & unmoved me, I secured

        my leg over his, & good lord & Diana the night

was so violet-

ihave toshout.

T.R.San (they/them) is a queer poet based in Yangon who writes horror without meaning to. Their work has been published or is forthcoming in Cobra Milk Magazine, Erato Magazine, and others.