Monday, June 21
Do you remember once crouching over a smoldering fire,
desperately blowing? Two short puffs, one long puff.
Do you remember the pear party we had that night,
flashing patterns on the tent walls with our torches?
Do you remember insisting we be stationed together,
practicing our smiles in between awaiting instructions?
We spent hours carefully tying our scarves –
it was a novelty to braid my hair before we reported.
Do you remember bending over tea lights on the stairs,
bravely struggling to light and relight them as the wind
tore the flames from the wicks, and our song with them.
Do you remember? It was ‘when you believe’. And I still do.
Do you remember how we stood shoulder to shoulder
along the darkened staircase, bowing as the guests
swept past us gracefully, little knowing that the hot wax
from the tea lights spilled onto our gloves, drying in patches.
Do you remember how we shoved our sleeping bags together?
We’ve camped side by side for years. Four years.
We were telepathic – or so we thought. I neglected to
bring toothpaste – I thought you would. So did you.
Do you remember wandering downtown every week,
blatantly breaking every known rule. We were carefree.
The matching anklets we hid under our school socks.
Linking arms in public. People stared. We knew differently.
Do you remember the practices we had before promotion?
The way we marched behind the guide room, arm in arm,
Holding the treasures between us. We made them laugh.
Do you remember our item? We could pole dance, or so we said.
Do you remember when we were promoted, together?
How we clung to each other, as if we would shatter into pieces.
The way we beamed at each other, pearly white stripes
shimmering against the blue on our shoulders conspicuously.
Do you remember the camp we organized as PLs?
It was a success. It confirmed our suspicions –
the PLC 03-04 can work miracles, simply because
we believe. Do you remember how we cheered that night?
Do you remember dancing? When you danced
at the stadium, while I took the award, trembling.
When we both danced during practices for ae.
You’ve always made fun of my dancing, all these years.
Do you remember preparing for our campfire?
It must have aged us by a few years each.
All we ever believed in and hoped for,
poured into that one night. Those few hours.
Do you remember, do you remember?
‘ I’ll go to heaven and wait for you. I’ll give the angels
back their wings, and risk the loss of everything.. ‘
tomorrow we’ll be guards-of-honour. Once more.
Will you remember?
[love ya all the way to the moon and back -- for ling. written 9th may. that guard-of-honour duty i'll never forget. it tore us all apart.]
it must've been love.
11:55 am
xoxo
