published in Wattle Sydney Arts Students Society's (SASS) First Nations, Black and People of Colour literary journal 2021
I am on a bus it is half-late it is laden with
people as of late.
outer crevice of my eye I see the pig-tailed tot
swathed in the arms of one who says,
Fei chong chong* / fly little bug
chong chong fei / little bug fly
I am six wriggling like larvae
tossed into air between two sets of hands who
propel me into the glint of the sun.
chong chong flies like a missive
who fears falling when these heights are love?
once too I could steal snatches,
words pitched down to make me sleep.
cocooned, festooned, this little bug is safe.
flutter under this wing, let me temper these fears
with the singsong of my heart.
Now little bug flees, while the little bug watches
open-mouthed at the girl who eyed her
steal kisses from her corner seat
dash off tear creased, without a word
while the driver peddles on.
All her 爸爸 said was:
Fei chong chong
Chong chong fei
to make her chest soar
to make her eyes round
Little bug, little bug where have you gone?
your lacewing lies have dislodged
the howling of this throat.
* 飛蟲蟲, or fei chong chong is a chinese children’s poem widely recognisable to the young as a lullaby.