the queue is long and her admirers many,
‘take a number sir, you’re number twenty.’
note: the title literally means ‘the number card of love’, referring to the numbers usually given out on sheets of paper at queues.
my friend saw this and said:
‘i don’t care if i’m number twenty, as long as twenty is the last number.’
sure shut me up there ahahahahah!
let us be gone before dawn’s first ray, before the lions leave their lair.
there will be no fishermen to tell of our tale,
nor anyone to halt us as we sail.
and by the morning’s light, we’d be halfway from anywhere.
the sun – my enemy – as the skies grow bright.
i stand vigilant yet you’re not in sight…
will we be free like yonder birds in flight?
or are we ultimately meant to lose this fight?
it’s a pity,
this weather with this city.
what a mismatch,
her beauty’s got a catch.
the sun is setting,
was it ever rising?
you were way up there,
but you were never here.
where it mattered the most;
you’re just a ghost.
if this were a wedding,
that would be no ring.
if you are my muse,
then why do you refuse…?
it was always summer where I lived.
sometimes, the heat can get unbearable,
why oh why, spring, did you have to leave?
nevertheless, I always found comfort in warmth so tangible.
a loud jolt from my mobile disrupts my nap,
tidings of nothing but the smallest, littlest, silliest things.
uncharacteristically, I wake with a spring in my step; t
hat season, I had wings.
but now winter rages over my hut;
where Summer exists only in the heart.
the Autumn I prayed for never came.
… and even now I feel the same.
Summer was the season where I grew,
Summer was the season where I learnt;
Summer was the brightest season of my life,
thank you for being the Summer of my youth.
i know, i lament;
but my heart is not ready to relent.
It’s still summer where I live.