Wake Me Up

Wake me up when December is over
Turn the rainbow wheel and hit a colour
Dragging sofa over timber flooring
Withered flowers grouped in mourning

Wake me up when December is over
Spilt rosemary oil over clay diffuser
Gentle wind through cold gray shades
Mindlessly sweet words that we love to hate

Wake me up when December is over
Balinese massaging clay and fuckingly hot shower
Countless courting that leads to nothing
Soap operas with no ending

Wake me up when December is over
Search the fields for a four-leaf clover
Jazz music on crumbled sheets
Chilly Pudong out of reach

Wake me up when December is over
When the sighs are gone, and days less tougher
Tealight candles and green tea latte
A morning of hopefuls, a brand new day

Christmas

A little Christmassy cheer, I couldn’t help gasped at the sight of the dreamy Christmas tree, its welcoming warmth, like a beacon of love, broke through the dusty night air, and pulled me towards it with every step. I just had to surrender myself.

Café Café was just as I had left it. About a year back I think? The silent face from across the other table, he’s still there. That was the philosophical day that never quite happened, never meant to happen. We exchanged smiles.

A little candle holder I soon found nearer to my face, and so had dancing shadows graced my every laughter and delight as seafood and sun-dried tomatoes tickled my tongue. Do I look tensed? I swear the sultry tunes of Édith Piaf wasn’t helping at all.

The iPhone really shouldn’t be on the table. Its very presence is a vivid contrast to the darkened nostalgia gracing every single piece of ornament in this quiet space. And too, the distraction posed a challenge too great for me not to submit to. I pinched the screen and resized photos, as though I have not resized a photo in my life before.

And a proposal. To Penang I hear? Couldn’t give no for an answer, could I. But I could count with both hands the days of which this new turn has unfolded. But really let’s just pinch my nose and jump right in, splash myself a torrent of emotions again. The silly games people play, and the silly people games play.

Whatever happens next, I still have the Christmas tree to dream about, at least.