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Gaye Nov 2015
With the house they are selling their childhood and adolescence, five funny brothers and grandmother's sweets, late night dramas and the unattractive maids they inherited, cigarettes they puffed secretly and lessons they learned with jackfruit pulp. Now the roots are being pulled and I wonder what'll be left. I wish people live there, generations come and play on its front yard and I hope my ancestors understand new generation urbanism and modernity.
They are selling the house.
Gaye Nov 2015
I met my ghost yesterday, on the bus at a time young girls are not supposed to travel alone. I was thirsty for freedom; she sat next to me dressed like a wanderess, she smelt of some cheap perfume and her face a golden cage. We sat together like anthills and did not speak, we were immigrants of a violent history, she sold her body and I my brain.
Gaye Nov 2015
No revolution, emotional shipwreck, card games, magic, motorcycle, daisy chains, silk, marbles or your mountain nest and jasmine fields. Come with me.
Gaye Nov 2015
...and when you sleep and wake in a world so unfamiliar I sit cross-legged on the floors of my house, watch rain kiss the Arabian sea and west winds wave a goodbye..
Old chap.
Gaye Nov 2015
When he asked me to draw something I made little flowers at the corners of pages and when I grew up they bloomed all over my notebooks, today I pick them up one by one, look through the pages to see him and the evenings humming birds sang on its branches.
Gaye Nov 2015
If the world is truth, let us pretend to be insane
If I’m life, set my tongue on fire, let it burn
Because my paintings bleed, my tales flee
And my eyes see no meaning at all.
At impossible desires my heart wake-
Every morn and die with desires at night
The masks are all torn between the streets
And the thread that connect them to deeds.
Gaye Nov 2015
I don't see those guava trees today neither the little white teak flowers but I see them as images somewhere at the back of my head everytime I see my love. He makes me homesick even though he has no earthly connection to those images, I see them all through him, he makes me a hopeless romantic and a child I have long forgotten.
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