I am waiting for your message. I am sick at the pit of my stomach. It is easy for you to let go, to snip off that tiny string that ties you to me. Not that I blame you. I find it so hard too, living here in Manila and thinking of you living your life in Seoul. Can I hold on? I don't know.
What I know is that I'm happy that we met. I'm happy that you love me. I love you. I love you. I love you.
19 June 2007
27 May 2007
We kissed open mouthed desperate saying farewell with our hearts
And we had our last can of cold coffee together
I was saying if you want to I will stay but you just smiled sadly
Then it was goodbye the real one the one
where the taxi you took becomes one like the hundred other cars in the city
on the flight home I was thinking
would our merged fluids i exhaled drop in a fine mist on the sea
and, being bitter, rejected by the oysters
so that years later i can trace the path from Incheon to Manila
Swimming, collecting a rope of pearls
And we had our last can of cold coffee together
I was saying if you want to I will stay but you just smiled sadly
Then it was goodbye the real one the one
where the taxi you took becomes one like the hundred other cars in the city
on the flight home I was thinking
would our merged fluids i exhaled drop in a fine mist on the sea
and, being bitter, rejected by the oysters
so that years later i can trace the path from Incheon to Manila
Swimming, collecting a rope of pearls
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