padang padang / my heart glows
By kevin martens wong zhi qiang
originally published sunday, 19 may 2024
on tigri sa chang
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.
You get the shivers when you look into my
prize?
Let me call the rivers.
The oceans.
Every color of the Kristang sky.
Slide your homophobia
into my business.
Stick it up my
pride.
Fuck me so indigenously good.
Make me say
"seng, timedancer.
Yes.
Oh my goodness.
I also want to say
goodbye
to this oh so heaty
pain in my chest."
Pry
these feelings for Kevin Martens
from my mess.
Let the tears
shoot forth.
Cry
like the PAP
when they lost Sengkang GRC.
Let me never run dry
in the lagoons of your loss.
In the fields where we cuddle together
and sigh.
My Kevinskin so gentle,
your transference so fucking idiotic and coarse
and I can tell
you're more than all in.
I can tell
I never had to win
your heart over.
Take off all my roles
and bathe in soothingest Dragonflower—
padang.
Padang.
I hear it and
I grow.
Padang.
Padang.
Every lie of Spectrum
still caught in my soul.
Padang.
Padang.
Come lie down on my grass
and fucking eat me whole.