June 15, 2015 § 1 Comment
You entered my car holding
two big balloons.
“The balloon-seller’s kid is hungry,”
I took the orange balloon
hoping you prefer purple.
“Good. I was hoping I’d get
This moment of
brought me particular joy.
I tossed my balloon to the backseat.
I had never much cared for them,
but I knew I would nicely for this one.
We drove on.
And you told me of how when
you were little,
Dad would always buy you a balloon
and tie its string to your finger
to keep it from drifting away.
With such fondness you expressed this
piece of nostalgia.
I remember thinking
I could tie you balloons everyday
if it would make you this happy.
It’s a few days later now.
The balloon has been floating around
like a happy ghost of you.
My sister pointed out that
the balloon’s existed
for far too long and
would make sense.
It was a suggestion made in jest
but the thought brought me great sadness.
And it was then that I noticed
my orange balloon had
deflated a bit.
Soon it’ll be
Like what is to
April 29, 2015 § Leave a comment
I wish to always be
on your mind
if only in the backdrop
like a faint watermark accompanying
the pages of your life
like silent letters in a word
like a forgotten piece of chocolate
lodged in the teeth
and which springs out suddenly
with all its sweetness
March 26, 2015 § Leave a comment
I like your name in the uppercase.
It takes longer to write that way.