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I had a dream the other day,
it was of you,
and it was a happy dream
as my fingers interlinked
with yours as we stroll down
the cobblestoned footpath
down our new home.

We stop for a moment,
gazing straight ahead,
as blue skies turn purple,
and dandelions tilt their heads
slightly as the wind picks up speed,
and fly off to the ground.

In front of us,
there are little puppies
covered in their thick fur
to ward off the cold,
wagging their little tails as
we play with them,
licking our hands.

I woke up suddenly,
the remnants of the dream
flashing before my sleepy eyes.

And I felt sad,
because the dream could
never be a reality.
We could never
have our own home,
stroll down footpaths,
and play with puppies.
We just never could.



I jogged on a cold,
pavemented street today,
and my body didn’t feel cold

I walked for about three
kilometres, from the Eiffel
tower to the great carousel,
and I hugged my arms around
my torso to will away the chill.

And when I got back home,
as I’ve begun to call the hotel
I’m staying at,
I ordered two large pizzas
that delivered with a free coke,
and gobbled them down.

Enough exercise for today,
I guess?

iron lady

you took me high up
into the air, but in
closed compartments,
with the chilly air biting
into my skin, my hair
flying everywhere.

I could see people and
cars when I looked down,
so tiny, similar to ants on
the kitchen counter.

my skirt flew up in the
sudden gush of wind.
I didn’t mind that, the
city of romance made
justice with its name,
as the man knelt down
for his to-be fiancé,
and there was happiness
and cheers all around.

Iron lady, you’re on my
list of favourites.


I sipped fancy wine today
and slept in a recliner seat
that was a foot too long
for my tiny frame.
I’m lost in time, travelling
west to east, and it’s beautiful,
I wouldn’t change a thing.

But the people here don’t
understand what I’m saying,
and it’s difficult to locate
the train stations.
I’d probably change that.


the first time I had cotton candy,
I was five.
and it was pink, like my
frilly princess dress.
I remember plucking off some
off the bent wooden stick it
was held on,
and putting it in my mouth,
it was soft, and sugary,
and it melted before I could
even roll my tongue around it.
I remember naming it “pink clouds”,
and I wondered why they named
them clouds, and not
white candy.

a trip down memory lane

how about you and I take
a trip down memory lane,
and go back to the time where
we first locked eyes in the process
in a fight over the chocolate
ice cream that melted before
we could decide who gets the
first bite.

that was hilarious, wasn’t it?

how about we talk about our
first date;
the one where you were so late
that I thought you’d stood me up,
but you waltzed in half hour later
with the prettiest bouquet
of lilies that could ever be there.

those were the good times, weren’t they?

how about we talk about a year
before our marriage;
the time when we first had sex.
you said I was the most beautiful
woman you’d laid your eyes on,
and that you could never think of
anybody else to share your bed with.

that was a blissful time, wasn’t it?

how about we now move over to
when we had our daughter;
you held your head in your hands,
crying, because she was a girl.
I’d let that go, ’cause I thought
you would come around,
and you did, five years later.

that was when things began
to go downwards, I guess?

how about we now shift to
a month ago,
where I find you and her
in our bed?
there’s also a bouquet of lilies,
just like the one you gave me
all those years ago.

That isn’t good, is it?

how about we focus on now,
as we sit outside the courtroom
where our divorce is being finalized,
as we sit quietly next to each other
wondering what exactly went wrong
as we eat chocolate ice cream
that’s melting.

We’ve taken the first bite, though.

i’ll see

I don’t know when,
or how I will see you.
I don’t know if your hair
will look as soft as they seem.
I don’t know if your eyes will
have the same kindness as your voice.

I’ll know what colours are.
I remember how you described your
bedroom to me.
You said it was ‘pink’, and you
said I’ll feel it.
you said I’ll feel the color pink.
I’ll know if it is as happy
as I think it is.

I’ll know if lilies look
as nice as they smell, and
I’ll know if the rose thorns
that pricked me in 7th grade are as
mean looking as they feel,
and their petals, just as soft.

I’ll see, sweetheart.
I’ll see the face of the person who
loved me unconditionally.
I’ll see the person whose heart
is so pure and fine.
I’ll see.

I’ll see you, I’ll be able to look
you in the eye and tell you that
I love you, and I will continue to,
always and forever.

I’ll see, sweetheart.
I just don’t know when, or how.