Santa Monica

yes, you.
We could’ve had everything
(But you already know)
Could’ve had that house in Malibu
with the skylights
Hanging off a cliff
Could’ve had
London, New York, Melbourne,
glasses slipping off our noses                                                                                                              typing furiously on laptops            
(we both worked too much)                                                           
that little apartment by the Pacific
(Franklin Ave)                                             
leftover pasta                                                                            
wineglasses knocked over,                                                            
clocks ticking,                                                                                                
laughing as we stumble through the gates.
(We always packed too much)
I admit I did leave
when you hit the dirt.
But when I turned back around
to pick you up
You were long gone.
So why don’t I believe you
When you say you hate me
(And in the same breath:
that we were perfect)
After a year of searching
Halfway across the world
You walked into the room
Hey, I said.
And your opening statement,
“If you loved me, you wouldn’t have left.”
Well, I left first, you left next
Where does that leave us now?
“This is where we met,” you remind me.
As if I could forget.
I’d left where you’d fallen
Now you stand there
as I drown
It’s as if you remember
then you chose to forget
I had one last hour to remind you about eternity
But it was stolen from me
And now
I have eternity to never see you again.

Santa Monica
Alicia Khoo
Turned to Salt
Singapore, Jan 2010


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