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Jeffrey Pua Oct 2014
We are the grey area;
We write for our space.*

© 2014 J.S.P.
Jeffrey Pua Oct 2014
She kisses
Old kisses away
Much better
Than the last.*

© 2014 J.S.P.
Jeffrey Pua Oct 2014
Please let me touch...
...your...*

© 2014 J.S.P.
Jeffrey Pua Oct 2014
If someday you would find me,
Destined for another,
That I only kiss
With half the feeling it requires,
Then by that time, you would know
That I have already decided
To go against my patience.

I no longer await
The fulfillment of the heart.
I no longer wish to see a world out-of-place.
I would see as if
I see like you.
I will no longer look at your *******, your hips,
For I would only look at *******, and hips.
Your eyes-- just eyes
That I would stare at still.
And I would secretly want you
Like classical music.
I would secretly want to touch
Your moony left earlobe.

I am destined with such sshh inside of me.
My heart is only wind tonight;
My hands, water.
I struggle for the poem of love,
The leaf it carries towards you.

A cicada is all I can think off your songs;
I have no use for the evening but to listen to.
My soul is not contented, not,
That somewhere two stars are far apart,
As though a male one from his ex-girlfriend.

I have a liking for what I cannot have;
I let you go on purpose.
The black of your hair, the little of your feet,
Hands, slight-fevered,
Rows of lip, rows of thigh-
All of it, gone;
All of it,
Cloud and jasmine.

I let you go because I want you still.
I love what I do not have.
I know my fate.
I love you.
And I set you free.*

© 2014 J.S.P.
Jeffrey Pua Oct 2014
To write a poem for you
Is to busy one's self in choosing
His favorite toe: Say, a starfish,
A jellyfish. Say, an octopus,
A squid, scribbling in the water,
Listing 'ten reasons why' as
Autobiography.

Look
What you've done to me.*

© 2014 J.S.P.
Jeffrey Pua Oct 2014
It started off as though to say:
I love you.

But then I'm learning, and adapting,
And deceiving, and becoming,
And beginning...
...to be bad at it.

What a strange feeling!*

© 2014 J.S.P.
Jeffrey Pua Oct 2014
If love is blind,
Then memories serve
As its blindfolds.

© 2014 J.S.P.
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