By Mary Jean Chan
At thirteen, school meant mandatory
medical kits: two face masks, a small
bottle of hand sanitizer. We sang
hymns praising the Lord through
our masks, standing far apart
from one another, empty seats
filling the hall. My father left
for work in an N95, returned
home late with its firm outline
on his pale cheeks. Each day
I waited for him to come back,
felt his forehead, listened for
a cough, washed my hands till
they became gnarled like bark.
MARY JEAN CHAN is a poet, editor and lecturer currently based in Oxford. They are the author of Flèche (Faber, 2019) and co-editor of 100 Queer Poems (Vintage, 2022).
Art by Eloise Cooke
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