Missing Her (Fanling Babies Home)

By Antony Huen

You’d rather not see me,
since your last departure,

encapsulated in sepia,
constituted by knit,

paisley, and the smell
of your tea.

I mouthed mom,
your lips stiff and pursed.

You turned around,
stumbling up the stairs

to the secret chamber
in my rented flat.


The stamp you left me,
the tiara,

its silver rusts
like my tongue.

I wonder which colour
of the rainbow

she is wearing
to the funeral.

Antony Huen is a PhD student at the University of York, where he researches contemporary poetry in relation to visual arts. His recent poems have been published in Cha: An Asian Literary Journal, and he is one of Eyewear Publishing's The Best New British and Irish Poets 2017.