It’s May in Singapore, a month that’s both hot and wet. Singaporeans like me have developed ways to cope with the intense heat.
Hopefully.
Civilization survives. Barely.
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The Mass Rapid Transit station–
Carriages with pilgrims of Sahara’s fight.
Devotees primly seated, without whim–
Sleeves damp, gracefully moist.
Their fans advance, the sharp arms erect.
Still seated, hands raised with sweat–
Rites routinely observed.
The air-conditioning vent, a portal sacred.
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Then–
Aunties rupture, their breath bold,
Because it is hot.
Office workers chatter in raised tones.
Because it is hot.
The two-seated gentleman, pleasingly plump
Oozes scented charm.
Because it is hot.
The heat cajoles, oozing faux charm,
A sweet refrain.
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So–
The pilgrims’ coolness, performed pretense
As digital darlings emerge, Youtube shields intact.
“Stay cool, all.” Influencer guards react,
Poised peace with iced colas.
Their forms melting, their poses shift.
Smiles wide, their forms firm, as the train drifts.
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And finally-
Outside the train windows, dark clouds come forth
As these pilgrims prepare for the Great Flood.
Then they stand, sleeves now soaked with rage
Fans arms stretched for the attack.
The train pulls into a tunnel.
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And–
The pilgrims primly seated, without whim,
Sleeves damp, still gracefully moist.
Their fans retreat, arms aside.
Rites routinely observed,
🪭🌡️🪭🌡️🪭🌡️🪭🌡️🪭🌡️🪭🌡️
With soft murmurs of–
“It’s hot.”
It’s hot.”
It’s hot.”
🪭🌡️🪭🌡️🪭🌡️🪭🌡️🪭🌡️🪭🌡️
Original poem by Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin. AI tags are coincidental.
Mirrors of the Mind by Michelle Liew is a collection of psychological and supernatural short stories that explore the quiet unease beneath ordinary moments. These are not tales of spectacle, but of subtle fracture — where memory distorts, silence speaks, and the self is not always singular. In these stories, what is unseen often carries the greatest weight, and what lingers is not what is shown, but what is felt.
