I am in love,
At last I am awake.
5/6/2019

More than thrice I dreamt of you,
The little girl with whom I used to play;
You whom I no more can view,
Your child-like image in my dreams so gay.

   Now and then of you I dreamt:
   A sweet child standing beside the school-gate;
   Oft, too, in our classroom realm
   Laughing together, forgetful of hate.

Why I dreamt of you: or loved
Deep in my subconscious the lady-child
Who resent’d me, with me strove;
My childhood playmate I fain reconcile.

   But change I must the word “love”
   For my love was nought but mild affection
   And this I would like to prove
   Mild affection was not infatuation.

I thought of you with kindness
And without any inward youthful fire;
My schoolmate, your aloofness
Did I silently regard and admire.

   Perhaps, your image with me
   Is still the one formed in Primary Four;
   Innocent and young were we
   Sitting side by side near our classroom door.

My memory is fresh and bright,
Of days and years by the wind blown away;
My message, hope, is no fright;
Perhaps, you think my head has gone to lay.

   But I write with affection,
   My ink mixed with the early morning dew;
   Here I send, not in fashion
   My message of goodwill
           And God bless you!

P/S:
To our future I drink here
A glass of water clear – cool, refreshing;
May one day your face, my dear,
I see with the warmth of old remaining

when almost everything
feels rather new
almost every day

rows of two!-three!-four!-boys-bloc-king-the-cor-rid-or
will soon be gone
and the RHYTH-mic-tick-tock-of-my-leg-BOUN-cing-on-the-floor
will be no more
it's fresh cadavers wrapped in string
it is a joyful gospel hymn
mourning the best and worst of youth
(those shiny kids who'd first walked in
with all the grace and all the poise
of hatched arachnids missing limbs)

but what of "her" – you know her name –
that overfed, reptilian thing
who shed her hair and scratched her skin,
cursing the odds at Him upstairs, demanding He re-shape her?

some say she cried herself into extinction
– sailed away on a crimson tide –
balking at the trauma of being seen
(enforced, cursed vulnerability
in being known to man).

the rest knew better;
they were voyeurs in this
fruit-carving tutorial
on 'how to grow up':

STEP 1) consider all other alternatives
2) take the scalpel and initiative
3) before adrenaline gives way to doubt,
turn the flesh-vessel inside out in a cocoon of your own creation!
while organs may rupture and it aches like you've skinned yourself alive (good for her, setting herself free!) you'll look cuter in the class photos and has you-know-who... finally... shifted the weight?
4) breathe through the blood loss and searing pain
5) notice
           you
                can
                     breathe again.
                     at this point, does it matter that it aches?

Too many
Too little
So much time
Not enough time
There's two
So you have two
There's one
So you have none
                                                            ­                                Overwhelming
                    ­                                                                 ­                              Or
                                                              ­                                                Calm
            ­                                                                 ­                                  Easy
                                                            ­                                                       Or
                                                                ­                                              Hard
              ­                                                                 ­                    Unbearable
                                                      ­                                                             Or
                                                                ­                                     Endurable
                                                       ­                                         Unbelievable
                                                                ­                                                   Or
                                                                ­                                         Possible
                                                        ­                                         Unbreakable
                                                     ­                                                              Or
                                                                ­                                         Delicate
You have to choose
Even if you don't want to choose
Because you have a choice
Even if you don't know you have a choice

                                                                                                     Indecisive
                                                                                                                   Or
                                                                                       Just not right now
                                                                                                  Life is hard.