A girl I know...

There's this girl I know. Nothing really swell about her. But... she's the kind of girl who's got the sun in her eye when she laughs. Even on a rainy day.
Especially on a rainy day. Those kinds, they're hard to come by.

She knew all my friends, not that there were too many too. And she'd listen to them all, even when they didn't have anything to say. Those kind of girls, I tell you, they're hard to come by.

She had a mole in the shape of a butterfly. Now, it never looked like a butterfly to me. But she said it was, the wingless kind. She knew most things and I agreed. I agree to most things she says. The part where I disagreed, we never stumbled on anything like that until later. Later than too late.

Those kinds, they're hard to come by. The ones you fall in love with and don’t realize until lost.

And fools like us, everyone is.

She fell in love.
And I died.
And we refused to die again.

One way ticket to heaven

That was the year you died. So you aren't expected to know what happened after that. I stopped living. For a while. That was but expected.

I gave away your shirts, the worn ones and the not worn ones. Your watch stopped. Again. You'd forgotten to change the battery. Your sandals were in really bad shape. I kept them. For a while.

Your books... they took some time deciding what to be done with. I still am deciding what to do with them. For now, they stay amidst my books. They must've been confused, parting from known neighbors. We all had to live different, now that you'd died.

I gave clear instructions that I not be let know what was done with your armchair, writing desk and typewriter. Now I wish I'd kept them. But then I also wish you'd lived longer.

You'd given away your bike. Not that you knew you were going to die. You'd have told me, we never had secrets between the two of us. And once, when the young boy who got your bike rode past home, I ran to the balcony, forgetting you'd died. I think I cried that day. For a while.

Singing spaces

We sleep like two open brackets lying on the same side. My hair is forever in your face. I push it away exasperatedly. You are gentler with it. And when it finally comes in the way of a kiss, in reckless abandon I ask you, shall I shave it all away?

Your eyes are the most unreadable things I have ever turned to. I'll learn their language one of these days and know all your secrets.

There is a conversation. Airborne alphabets caught by half listening ears.

Your hands cup my breasts. They feel small. You assure me yet again they're perfect. The many ways we make lie a truth.

Give me a love bite, I ask you.
You try. And again. You tell me you really don't know how and you'll only end up biting me hurt.

It turns me on and I curl a little tighter. I haven't reached that stage when I can easily let you know what happens with me. You haven't reached the stage where you assume you know what I want.

There's you, me and some silence in between…tightly packed, not much room between us.

Economical not

Born businesswoman that I am, I sold my body to you.

And you paid in love.

And that now my dear, is a currency with the highest rate of depreciation.