Of Survival

by Lim Yan Sin

How can you expect to survive on this much?
A text message in the morning,
Throughout the day,
And before bedtime.

Connections only virtual,
Never real.
I read this somewhere before:
Even if we sent a thousand messages back and forth,
Our hearts won’t grow an inch closer.

So I have taught myself
To content simply
In the bus rides,
The wine after dinner,
And the occasional phone-call.

With even less than this,
I could survive.

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