Poem: One
by Liy. "one: pot of gold, poisoned apple, beanstalk. an unread message."
pot of gold, poisoned apple, beanstalk.
an unread message.
how this kiss
feels like the first.
the birth of a stickman.
how we begin.
the line of an axis, where you and I
intersect at the point of origin.
a candle in a cupcake.
a signature signal to leave some party
and discover the favourite number
of our clumsy limbs.
your island on my speed dial.
365, 24, 60,
the crocodile has time in its belly
but it’s aching to bite.
your name is ticking in my throat
to a phone call I wait for every night.
Liy Yusof, 21.
🪬
Liy is a Southeast Asian Muslim knowledge worker and poet, sharing what they learned from the periphery to prep for precarious futures. This is an ad-free space outside of the algo. If you're new here (hello!) or need a refresher, start here for house rules. Here is what I am up to now. I spend time thinking out of my zettelkasten notes system and sharing playlists of curated treasures from my time travels. Consider subscribing for free to stay in touch— I only send out letters a few times a year. If you valued something here, tell me over DM (if we have access to each other) or tip this cryptid with a message— that sends a clear signal of appreciation ✨
