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Written by Rachel Goh

Five fingers
on each hand
make ten


yet, still,
they
fall short
of reaching


the cookie jar on the topmost shelf
the eraser in the nook between wall and desk
and
the hands extended to you
over the railing


your eyes say you’re tired
you’ve had enough
you want to let go
and
the wind tugs at your feet
tantalising,
promising
an eternal rest


yet, still,
these hands,
five fingers on each making ten,
seize and,
cling
on to that lifeline


you stretch a hand up


ten fingers,
five on each,
fall short
in the end

 

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