Chosen Ones by Priya Gill

HIGHLY COMMENDED IN THE PHILIP PYKE MEMORIAL PRIZE 2024

after Helen Quah

One day they’ll barricade
into my room whilst I’m trying to do my
dissertation. Their racket will drown out
my music and my ears will turn solemn.
They will never be my age.

One day they will stop embracing, and
pick fights with any object that whispers
against them. One day we’ll fall out and
eat dinner in different rooms and flick each
other’s ears as we go past and scribble on
each other’s homework for that small boost
of dopamine.

and that’s all dope, I mean, it’s dope –
I mean until they’re in hospital and
I’ll grieve before they’re dead because I
could have caught a flight last night.
We will hold hands. They’ll say
one day, we’ll make it out of the womb.