lovely.
how lovely it is to be loved by someone, only i repel them as if we're two different poles never destined to meet.
we are in this small restaurant downtown: warmly lit ambiance, smoked and savory sillage, romantic resplendence. we sit right in front of one another. i see your face but you don't see mine. your head's bowed in anger and confusion again. i think this is the part they call breakup. i tried to hold your hand but you keep them clenched. i put my hands on top of it instead.
"can you feel the warmth?"
we aren't talking. the clink-clanks of the cutleries and tablewares did it for us. how oxymoronic it is to have let the silence do the talking. time doesn't feel like it ticks for how long. it rather stretches the splitseconds between us.
"how close are we in space-time?"
you shed a tear. i saw your white dress getting wet from it. pitter... patter... it slowly floods the dry parts of your pure soul. i want to console you. i want to hug you.
"but what are these tears streaming down my face?"
you can't see me. your head's still bowed down. and i thank the dimness deliberately covering our corner to shield us from their sour lips and shameful eyes.
the night dives deep and it's now you and i in this small restaurant downtown. we still sit right in front of one another. i see your face but you don't see mine. it's high time i take on the daze and i'll be fine.
i hope we'll be fine.
YOU ARE READING
To Go Fly A Kite
PoetrySet forth in a lie-low setting, To Go Fly A Kite is a mischievous compendium of poems and prose tackling explorations on what it's like to tightrope between going all out and giving it all in.
