Charlene Shepherdson

Dust | Debu-Debu

How do I tell a story to all of the uninvited dust that momentarily comes and dwells in the crevices of my life? Will my question be answered as the wind holds its tongue, quietly sprinkling dust across the earth? …

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Bukit Panjang

a first memory running from head to toe: as the sun loses grace, cheeky children return to their homes late with a wipe of their brows and wind playing in their ears. in the garden alone, a young pair of …

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