Paling Jujur

Peaches by Yasmin binti Ahmad

Bathing,
in the blossom
of our love,
I am suffocated by
its rotting.

It happens
that it happens.

When a man and woman
first meet,
they are at their
kindest,
most polite,
most
considerate.
Never again,
from that moment on,
will they be
as sweet,
or will their
smiles be
as genuine,
or will their eyes be
as playful,
or will their longing be
as pure
or as powerful,
as on the first
accidental meeting.

It is as though
a heart that falls 
in love
were 
a peach
at the peak of
its ripeness;
plump
and velvet to the touch,
but destined
to decay 
and decay.

Would it that
the heart could love
a lover
with as much
conviction,
and as few
conditions.
as when it loves
a friend.

Sunday, 10 March, 2013, 8:02 PM