"What made you cry?"
It was early August
The house was nice
His room smelled like jasmine
It was just us
We were happy
"Okay, and what made you cry?"
We were in love
So much in love our eyes closed shut
The bedsheet was soft
His skin was soft
He was beautiful; he is beautiful
"Yeah, but what made you cry?"
We loved each other
His touch was light and gentle
Fingertips grazing on the map
He knew every nook and cranny of the route like the back of his hand
Marking his territory delicately each time he stops
"Yet what made you cry?"
We were so adamant on persevering
Albeit knowing that the idea of 'us' in the future is a life lie