Connotes always to this: the smell of mangoes in December / the taste of candycane in my mouth / the solitude of being unbothered, peace & spacious of vast room for the self to explore without being interrupted but also this repetition of despair / alone, for the third year of being too celibate to allow anyone else in / alone, how it encompasses my every move / meal for one / a movie for one, a bed big enough to fit one body & a feeling in one’s own company / alone, it echoes in & out my marrow & even seeping into the intricate part of my heart’s vein / alone, to tell myself a story that someday I won’t be / but what an...