A New Threshold

By Aster Goh I-Mei

we wade through seas of trash.
trashing.
our eyes are lifted by the wash
of a spotlight,
seeking.

A house, vacated.
A home, rebuilt.

It sits at the edge of a hill,
Incandescent
A lighthouse guiding me,
the sinking ship,
home.

A dwelling forged by the pillars
of our beings,
tiled by your aesthetic sense,
doorways sandpapered
by my determination,
the air freshened by the waft
of home baked pies.

Fierce pride clings to bride,
a future unbridled,
as you, your good self,
ambles over and sidles up
to my upright posture.
We are eternal comrades,
now co-hosts of the perpetual party,
that our space will bear witness to.

I will shed my inquietude,
with my last name.
You will dust off the debris
from your yesterlife.
And together we will nail a plaque
onto the gatepost, signifying our address,
your redress,
and more.

No. 2

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