By | 8 June 2020

If I walk on a Hong Kong street
for long enough,
I will eventually bump into someone I know
from a long time ago.
So long ago that each of us wilfully resorts to
deceptive amnesia.

There are streets in this city
that are almost unwalkable:
they are too neat, they lack
cigarette smoke, the old women
no longer sit on the pavement.

Sometimes a word said by a stranger
presents itself intimately, enters my ears
like a curse. I turn around,
it’s a group of shadows
counting tomorrows.

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