we were children:

drenched in a world of basketball games, scrawny limbs, calling names, knee scabs and band-aids, treasure hunts, and make-believe worlds

Enthralled to be alive, curious about why cats hate dogs

and what it’s like to be married (married at 16 or married at 25?), have a job where

all you seem to do is type words and numbers on your laptop.

We were enthralled by music, by moving images of a teenage psychic

on a black-and-grey box

As if they were layers of a chocolate molten lava cake: a metaphor for life?

You were the vanilla ice cream topping of my grade-school soul.

we grew:

carefully placing building blocks of feelings and memories (outgrowing legos), a vignette of thoughts and memories of passing on secrets, reading books, falling in love, a series of self-discoveries washing us from one ego to the next.

Cerebral quests, and still curious

about how people fall in love, or why they hate

jumping from one lover to the next, suspended between destinations, continents, fuming wafts of perfumes, paying rent and 

having brunch, reading George Orwell and re-reading scripture

wondering who God is, and why we are alive

Still enthralled, but I forgot (about you?)

Look around

surrounded by nature, surrounded by newspapers and existentialism and art and the daunting prospect

of paying taxes and puffing up lists of accomplishments

We passed each other, we passed the time of day, we proceeded: I only attempted (from you?), convincing myself I succeeded.

I walk        I dance         I envy beautiful people        I drink coffee      schmear bagels             lit nicotine sticks (invitation for death, they say: he RSVPd “yes”)          I inhale fumes, perfumes, morning dew

and release an exhale heavy with

thoughts of


Look around.

where do I go from here?

Copyright © Imana Gunawan