Stranger: *** is a beautiful experience
Stranger: again
Stranger: not to be rushed
Stranger: like tea
Stranger: you don't mix tea
Stranger: you let the bag soak and simmer, waiting for it to willingly offer its truest form
Stranger: not coffee no
Stranger**: it's always stir stir stir

I want you to talk to me.
not with dumb, one-line responses.
Give me effort.
Give me something to talk about.

I want you to talk to me.
Not with a "how u doin"
Give me a statement.
Give me a question to answer.

To he honest, I don't know why I'm asking for so much
when your poetry proves you can only give me little.

"I'm not a beggar!"
My mother laughs this line
at a lady trying to rip us off
a pure silver choker.

"I'm not a beggar!"
My mother half-jokes,
Wrapping the silver choker in a thick plastic ziploc
after she cut the price down to zero profit

"I'm not a beggar."
My mother's crying now.
Salty tears on her cotton nightgown
as we think of the life we lived before.
A whole life away from the rotting wooden table
we laid a cloth upon
to sell our old wares.

The glitz and glamour
the gala dinners
the pageants
and diamond-encrusted models.

It all came down because of me.

I wanted to go to an international school
I wanted to live on an island
I wanted a castle
I wanted a dog
I wanted everything.

It's my fault.
It's all my fault.
All my fault.

I'm sorry.
I am so, so sorry.

My heroes growing up
were golden-haired princes
and gun-toting superspies
that would crash through my bedrom windows
and whisk me away
to a world more beautiful than this one.

My heroes as a young, ***** teenager
were the scruffy rebels.
Sid Vicious. Joan Jett. Amy Lee.
Gerard Way. Brendon Urie.
who would scream their ways through my bleeding ears
and pierce my heart like needles,
And stir my pre-pubescent *** drive like a raunchy letter to a middle-aged, dissatisfied wife.

My heroes changed as I grew older
As my standards became lower for them.
because I thought i didn't deserve anything.

The man across the street who smiled at me.
The man who offered me a towel when I threw up on the bus.
The classmate who gave me directions once.

Then I met you, and you saved me.
Like the golden-haired prince
and gun-toting spy
from my dreams.

But today

One came in the form of a lady who bought a necklace from my mother.
And now we can afford two coffees instead of one.

Modern-day heroes.
****, I need to learn to save myself.

I told him the labour fee was for him alone.
he did it at home?
Who told him to take it home?
I've finished all my materials
30 thousand NT is all I'm giving
MY SALARY IS 10K
It's fair.
it's for my husband
Exactly, they'll help you make the rest!
It's not my cash
WHAT IF YOU GAVE IT TO THE WRONG PERSON?
Everyone thinks differently.
I'm sorry.

It's a hot day.
in mid-december.
What the **** is this.

I expected cold
That's what I came to Taiwan for.
i guess the world had other plans.
******* hell.

What am i doing?

I'm watching the old ladies run about
with the old men
Strings of coral and jade
around their frail wrists
And pocketfuls of money
i will probably never see

There's another old lady
carrying boxes of food
selling lunch to the loud jewellery sellers.
she's seen better days,
But she looks happy.
at least i hope she is.

The chestnut girl isn't here today.
i hope she is, though.
she's cheery all the time.
i need a bit of cheer in my life.

My parents have left me alone.
how the hell do i run this booth
i hope nobody comes to ask me for anything
even if i should hope they do.
we haven't made anything in weeks.

The jade market is loud
and the smell of sandalwood incense and rotting nails lingers
like when i accidentally cook too much pork
with an inadequate amount of onions and salt
and the smell assaults my apartment.

I wish you were here.
you would love the chaos.

They just don't understand, do they?
They don't see it.
The grace in your profession.

How you slide up the pole like a snake,
And come down like a ballerina on pointe,
And finish with a flourish,
Legs apart, arms wide, and wings brandished.

I watched you dance for flustered men who begged at your feet,
I watched you tease,
I watched you play with their fantasies,
And rip them apart like paper.

It may have been for a split second,
A fraction of a split second,

But I salute you.

Why?

Because of all the memories I had in Thailand,
You're the one I remember most vividly.

You've accomplished, in a fraction of a fraction of a second,
Something I have been trying to accomplish
Year after year,
School after school,
Lover after lover.

To be remembered.

You accomplished, in a fraction of a fraction of a second,
What I couldn't accomplish in 18 years.

I salute you.
I salute you.
I salute you.

It's eerily quiet.
No breathing, no distant engines,
Not even the drone of the aircon.

Nothing.

Nothing but the slow strumming of my guitar.

Its quiet now.

Can't wait to see how much more it can get at 2am.

Will we remember all of this,
Sixty years from now?
The people, the fights, the heartbreak,
The love, the loss, the pain?

Will we remember all of this,
Fifty years from now?
Forty?
Thirty?
The scandalised looks, the shifty eyes, the whispers around us?

Will we even remember this tomorrow?
The ***, the passive-aggressive texts, the pain, our hands entwined as we walked through halls of taxidermied animals, the bruised fingers angrily strumming on my guitar as I fight back tears because I couldn't yell at you?

Memories fade in my mind all the time.

The only thing that doesn't is your face.

And I hope it never does.

Not even sixty years from now.

if you only knew
                 the things
                         i would do  
                                    for y
                                              o
                                                   *u