Constant angry stares from the calories table,
the small pack of crisps burns
in your stomach.
Crisps give you a love handle, they say.

Too many fruit meals makes
it difficult to think or see.
You decide to go jogging anyway
Persistence is the key, they say.

The next morning, they will find you
in the sports ground, lying
next to an advertisement of Perfect Shape.
What a tragedy, they will all say.

30000 feet above ground someone asked my name,
I said nothing.
My eyes were following orange clouds
as they drifted.
They had never been so close.

A tiny screen before me was moving.
The plane on the map
travelled at the speed of light,
despite my attempts to delay it.
The captain announced we are
an hour from the destination.

30000 feet above ground someone else asked my name,
I still said nothing.
My mind was chasing light from the window
where we used to read next to.
It had never been so distant.

Running is not an option,
because there is a pond between us.
Your delayed gaze from across
burns a hole in the front pocket of my shirt.

Rambling is not an option,
because nobody wants to listen.
We throw messages to each other, they
fall under a million shaking voices.

Arguing is not an option,
because lovers do not disagree.
Words leave my mouth and travel until I
forget what I have said.

Dreaming is an option,
I'd like a penny for every nightmare, so that
I could afford a rocket to take us away.

I lay next to the Silent Valley,
watching tourists pass by
listening as the Fraser sisters rolled down a hill.

We put flowers in our hair
and sang as we were climbing on a wall made of
stones of various shapes.

We drove from Banbridge to Newcastle,
the coast glowed in the dark,
as I gazed over the Irish Sea.

I wrote their names in Chinese.
Faces lit up as they were reading
their names in alien characters.

Six thousand miles away now,
the stones, the characters, and my smile
are still there.

I shout "One! Two! Three!..."
with my hands over my face.
I peek between my fingers,
you are walking back and forth.

I shout "A hundred!"
as my feet take flight, looking
under tables,
beside gates,
behind bashes,
and above clouds.

I shout "Where are you?"
but my eyes do not answer.
I sit down and wonder
if it is still my turn.

Before we fell
into the centre of the earth,
we looked at our list of emergency.

We took a television,
because Papa liked to watch
some Chelsea games
(although there is no Chelsea).

We took a dishwasher,
because Mama hated to wash
dishes for five people
(although we didn't bring the dishes).

We took a computer,
because Sister had to wander
around MSN, Facebook and MySpace
(although we don't have internet).

We took a mini stereo too,
because Brother had to attend
lectures by Ozzy Osbourne
(although no one likes him).

I took Harvey.
He is tiny, easy to carry,
and he never barks at us.

As we jumped in,
following Papa, Mama, Sister and Brother,
Harvey and I smiled at each other.

Time is lying, withering
on a beach, wondering
if it can still gather itself.

They say he is crazy, but
he is closer to the flow.
It scares him. Even as
a man from the old times,
he is sophisticated and
he thinks to himself.

You say they are from
another world, but they
eat, sleep, fight and
sin just like you do.

They are young, but
they are already used to
uniforms and fighting
against the evil.

Scattered on a table,
I interpret the messages behind,
making sense
of every photograph,
and of myself.

I no longer see the red toothbrush
next to the green one.

Their hugs squeeze me
to death, almost.

There is a smell of pancakes
around, but I have nothing to eat.

Hitting my head against the wall
still does not make me understand.

I try to smile, it pour on me.
I hear him laugh.

I rush out on my bare feet
to see the hands waving me

Goodbye.

You open the window,
stretched out is one arm,
waiting for happiness to fall
into the palm.

I put on our favourite song.
The old rhythm sounds like our footsteps back at school.

We lie on the bed,
absorbed are two idlers,
watching as memories drip down
from the ceiling.

I hear your breath.
The steady pace feels like the music in the background.

I know you are looking for the letter she gave you
before the plane took off, it was too short to be
read during a flight.

I know you are looking for the drops of rain you collected
in a jam jar for primary science class, you got soaked but you
saw a rainbow afterwards.

I know you are looking for the scent of Grandma's sweater, you told
her you were too sick to walk so she carried you.

I know you are looking for the longitude and latitude
on the map where you used to
lie on the damp grass.

I know you are looking for the poster
of your favourite punk rock band, it was
torn apart by Dad.

I know you are looking for the tiny mushrooms that grew
in the garden, you thought they could be eaten.

I know you are looking for the lyrics of the song you sang
with your brothers in church, which you
tried to recite and scrutinize.

I know you are looking for the laughter that brought you
up in space when you leaped through the mountains
covered in snow.

I know you are looking for that place in the long abandoned woods,
and you might find it some day.