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things would have made more sense
if it wasn’t for this mall
and bright lights
and haze
and the noise,
maybe

I couldn’t hold your hand just quite right. Clung for a while and then I gave your arm back to you and my arm back to being mine, and I looked ahead wondering where to go from here. It could’ve been warmer maybe if the air-condition wasn’t so cold

again, the noise

It feels like we had left each other way past when our fingers clasped but the sweat, and words slipped through the cracks where our hands held tight but not tight enough. Your face looks different. I’m trying to capture it but  all i’m thinking of is the conversation where you are not a part of and home and work and when someone told me “ko tinguk kan sekarang orang putih ni semua pun pandai makan nasi oh”

I dragged you to my favourite store. You shirt smells burnt. Cigarettes. Strong. Not you. Not how i’m used to. I gave you a scowl. You asked why. I leaped to the other lane to get away. Saw you walking out for another cigarette, maybe? Malboros was it? I wanted to see the pack, but you said no. I don’t know what for or why I asked to see – maybe to capture something of you that i didn’t grow into knowing.

How did 6 months feel like a trillion hours spent on nothing

Standing on a ledge looking at tiny people. this mall is deadly. the city is only ever good for the vices in life i told you. I miss it when i can but i’ll never miss it in the remembrances where my head reels into the crazy lights and neon satchels and mannequins without faces, wearing clothes we’re supposed to see ourselves in; pale masks and vague illusions. billboards, tv, radio, shiny.

black is the colour you choose, like. i always preferred navy blue or a midnight shade.

we didn’t eat.

you left at a quarter past eight, maybe. and i walked into the hotel lobby. tried to make sense of the bright lights again wondering if the dizzying hue, and the glitz from this girl’s dress could set things right where my eyes met the arrow up button and i pressed the 17th floor, more lights, a view of cars streaming into the highway and with us and leaving and waiting and waiting.

what did dr seuss say? don’t spend your life waiting? time waiting? but it’s all we ever do anyway. minutes tick by. I had spilled everything walking on that clean floor, tiles reflecting steps– dirtied. I don’t know about you going up that bus. Did we walk the same pace?