I travel the world looking for my love;
in airports, on the streets of Venice
I constantly refresh my browser, aching for just a glimpse of your face,
aching for the ways you bend delight into the curvature of my heart
and how nothing fits, nothing at all
nothing is solid, nothing at all
nothing satisfies, nothing at all
Where are you? I cry out,
stumbling over street curbs,
my heart in tatters from the wandering

© Meisaan Chan