by Ryan Wong
The fireworks tonight are flowers
showering us in seeds of gold,
loud & beautiful in their hope—
all the things I cannot be.
Every summer’s end is the same:
sizzling barbecues, wailing car alarms.
& if I press my fingers to the glass
I can pretend,
even if for a moment,
that the joy of freedom was one I shared in.
Because make-believing is all I know,
all I can do. In this city in this state in this country,
anything more is a punchline
& a death sentence when they realize you’re serious.
Such is Merdeka for the Other:
gazing out of windows,
letting our imaginations run
free but never too far.