You said you love broccoli,
I said you are crazy,
Green can't be anything.

You said you love work,
I said you are drunk,
Screen can't be anything.

Holding a plate of broccoli,
Focusing on the MS Excel,
Putting on a smiling face,
Cool you survive the both.

Like a pizza,
I opened my heart for you.


I cheered you with all my sweety,
my salty,
my spicy,
my specialty,
my everything,


until,
you said you wanted a dumpling.

Squirrel fish, a pricy Chinese dish that I've been wanting for years.

The beautiful.
The sweet.
The soft.
The golden.
The juicy.
The crispy.
The everything that I can imagine,

has gone, when I finally can afford it.

My bedroom is inside my office

On weekends, I lay in my bed.
The air is soft, quiet, and light.
The goose-yellow lights are rolling from the four corners of the room and stop gently on me.
I roll over comfortably, stretch my body, hug my pillow, oh, it's so comfortable.

But the bed creaks, saying she was in pain.