he steps in. he is met by her unique exterior. she shines so bright in the hot lunch sun. the reflection of her illumination almost blinds him.
she goes back to her sleep. she looks ill and tired. the whole trip, she is sleeping. he stretches his arm across the seat. seconds later, her head settles on his thumb. first physical contact. so magical. gives him rough goosebumps. second physical contact: his knee and hers touch. he looks down and notices the well stature of her legs. her hair smells amazing. a familiar smell. he has used the shampoo before. the one he got from his bangladaise friend. tresemé. he keeps looking at her. her eyes are shut. her lashes coil up to almost touch her eye lids. the curve of her lips so perfectly cut like sand dunes. her smooth feet so soft. all in the look of an eye. her silence. her peaceful face. her fingers when they touch each other so slowly as she dozes in and out of her sleep.
he sees beyond her exterior. she is humbled. she enjoys a good laugh. she is strict with her money. she does not socialize much.
he wonders what her name is. where she is going. he can’t wake her up to ask all these. she looks tired. ill. peaceful. lovable. awesome.
he sees his future and hers flash right before his eyes as he sits there in owe.
he gets off. her perfect smell echoes all over his senses. it’s all over the heart of his right thumb.
-did you see that beautiful girl?-
“yah. the light skinned one?”
-yes! she is albino. i like her. wish i could see her again-
“oh!” , his friend exclaims.
he did not wanna see her today.
her smooth curved body.
her tiny-dimpled face.
the dimples right by her lips.
her bright, broad smile.
her slow jam walk.
her beautiful asian eyes.
her small waist.
she is still so visible in her absence as she is in her presence.
do you know what a love pimple is?a belief that when someone is in love with you,
you will sense it subconsciously.
in sensing, your face will express it physically,
just so when your lover sees you, they know you know.
they can now start a convo.
-you know i did that to you right?-
well, i got two.
i know where the other one is coming from.
the other is anonymous.
he broke a rule today.
and he loved every moment.
there is nothing as pleasant as breaking rules. the adrenaline rush.
the quick pleasure of the moment.
the laugher of the aftermath.
the thought of being caught.
the desire for more.
the short time span.
the pounding of the heart.
he loves breaking rules.
it gives his life a meaning.
he has a mission and accomplishing it gives me satisfaction.
he is an agent of rule breaking.
it him a reason to live on.
only HIS rules can he keep for now.
one cough after the other. could there be a language called “couch”
one coughs and the other responds with similar pattern off cough, on at a lower pitch.
it was as there the first was saying
“i am here”
and the other,
“i am here too”
she makes a small soft cough.
this time, no response.
now i wanna cough.
yap. i did it.
it felt like i was telling her
-i hear you. don’t be afraid-
she coughed again and said
“thank you very much”
such is my combi ride to work this morning.
i will never cough or clear m’y throat without thinking of this.
hey! maybe telepathy involves coughs. hmm!
i think i speak “coughalika”. lol
there she goes. walking swiftly through the dusty road.
hands swinging back and forth.
head tilted to the right as though she wants to see clearly
she is covered by the half morning darkness.
he stands here writing about her.
looking at her and enjoying every step she takes towards him.
there is something about her that just knocks him off his feet.
-aren’t you cold?-
“my jersey is inside. ”
“why are you standing outside-
-it’s warm today-
she goes on to put on her jersey. comes back unexpectedly to show him she is warm now.
it delights him to see her warm.
her physical warmth melts a part of his frozen heart. snowman.
he wants to hug her. lift her up. squeeze her a bit. aoch! it hurts. but hold her tight. cause it’s cute. give a kiss on the forehead.
but he cannot. not that he can’t.
he must not.
that’s the rule.
sara schepp is right.
tragedy does bring us together.
it took his death to meet her.
pops died and left me tons of awesome people to meet.
the warm hearted that he created
the tender lovers that he loved
the sweet talkers that he raised.
in tragedy can hope be found?
i took myself out today. i had a good time.
i decided on the movie and the snack.
myself was so obedient.
i told my self that -i am gonna enjoy this time-
and i did.
no, it was not me, myself and i.
it was just myself.
animation always gets me.
i left the theatre last.
i was content.
to end my night, i bumped into my mother and my little sister.
we were in the same theatre the whole time.
-i was not surprised that i did.
i mean, i thought about them before i left home. plus, i saw pops before all this-
i suddenly felt this feeling of happy
oozing from deep within.
i have not felt this way in over a month.
it was mind blowing.
this means i still feel it.
i danced through the grocery shop.
i moved along the isles like i was in a musical.
i am so happy.
i wish tomorrow would be the same.
-i doubt it-
daddy looksomeone in this mall smells like my you
the swift breeze of shower jel,
the slow entrance of of his cologne through my nose trills.
i looked a looked around
hoping i’d see you.
i guess someone out there got your mixture.
i will begin mine
i went in woolworths today
i saw you.
in every black apparel
i tried getting something:
-those are nice shoes-
but they ran out in this store.
“i will look for them, i will find them and i will buy them”