he tells me
he likes beaches
the one he's been to in Malaysia
right outside the bungalow
midnight swimming
on a clear water beach
he says he could live there forever
but i still love the city lights
city sounds and billboard signs
i don't mind the blinding glow
as i am trying to sleep
they light up my dreams
"we're like margo and quentin,"
he says,
"except that i am margo."
"but i am not exactly quentin,"
and i explain the reason
"we're analyzing things again,"
he laughs
i laugh too but
deep down i'm afraid
we, surely, we won't end up like them
we won't end up like them
"i love you,"
he suddenly blurts
a smile plays on my lips
"i love you too, but
why so sudden?"
he says he just feel like it
yes, we are not margo and quentin
this is not a paper town
with his presence
YOU ARE READING
things that come and go: poetry of a city
Poetry- ̗̀ in this city you are always halfway home ̖́-
