By kevin martens wong zhi qiang

 

originally published friday, 18 april 2025

on tigri sa chang​

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Koitadu | Content warning

Please first read about my writing in the Skribadorang or Writing section on the Igleza page here before reading the piece below so you have advance warning about the rather spicy things that I often like to write about, and why I choose to write about them, especially in terms of subverting unhealthy stereotypes about gay people, Kristang people, Creole people, Indigenous people, masculinity, neurodivergence, the body, healthy forms of attraction and sexuality, and using my writing to process the severe individual, collective and inter-generational trauma and abuse I have faced across my life.​

moves,
in the tiniest
pages,
flickering over

​

epochs of desolation
and millennia

​

of isolation

​

and distress
that has never
been ever
dreamfished

​

into anything
even approximating words;

​

the images
dance
and glimmer

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and at last
cast shadows
on the unbearable
and absolutely impossible
levels of hurt

​

and fear

​

that have consumed us all
through the generations
that could not break through.

​

Is it time to finally move on?
That decision
started at last
with me

​

and now

​

in its most honest and
endlessly reincarnating form yet

​

is finally passed
and given
to you.

​

If you were a work of art
then now
let you also be its source —

​

let you finally
be remade
and reimagined
by yourself

​

so perfectly imperfect
and absolutely
unstoppably
beautiful.