“Can A Magical Cape Kickstart My Mourning Process?” by Pak Chiu
Rethinking how clothes can help me turn the page.
Published in
Apr 5, 2023
Borrowed sources, the king of spades.
Enclothed my body — pain detected, excised, circle the drain.
All this for my four kitchen walls.
An embroidered performance,
Come forth grief. Malignant to fall.
Eagles ascend, my senses piqued.
Gowned in Americana on board the star-spangled banner.
For the briefest, vainest moment,
I caught myself through the glee of Elvis.
The act of self-distancing.
To unlearn and reveal my focus.
How many skins do a wo(man) need?
The layered casings of a silkworm’s weave.
Procured, extracted, and re-sewn with storied magic.
By no means I’ll keep tabs on the egos in my closet.
“Persevere, my love” — a few of mum’s last words.
I dressed up my reply and returned:
“I will. I’ll try”.
By Pak Chiu
