Vivien Yap: Someone Else to Yield
Muscle Memory
When a human flexes his arm inwards,
one muscle hardens,
one muscle yields.
The meeting has ended, I have not said a word.
“Looking forward to working with you boys.”
Smile / Shake / Firm
“Bye bye!”
Stoop / Wave / Pet
When a human reaches for his phone,
one muscle pulls, another follows.
Fingers extend outwards from the forearm.
I have his attention, limbs uncurl with a chance.
A seed. Encased in a private message.
A ransom. A photo of me.
“Put this on for me when we meet?”
Thursday, a work meeting.
When a human extends his arms outwards,
one muscle hardens,
one muscle yields.
Another pulls,
for one to follow.
From handshake to elbow to-
My swollen silence allows for
Grip / Graze / Squeeze.
When he reaches out,
I think of science,
I think of you.
Intimacy / Power / Relief
For when a human flexes his arm,
he hardens,
for someone else to yield.
Vivien Yap is an aspiring writer and poet from Singapore. Growing up with loud thoughts in a quiet girl, Vivien’s poems have had to bear the brunt of her suppressed youth. Her style ricochets between loud, angry precipitations of her thoughts and fluffy, day-dreams of love and heartbreak. Vivien’s debut book ‘Can You Hear Me Now?’ is now available for purchase online. On days when she’s not writing poems, Vivien is also a singer-songwriter and is also working on her debut EP to be released in 2019. Website.