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Writer's pictureVivien Yap

Two Hands to Clap

Hello,

something about you tonight


doesn’t feel right.


I’ve just stumbled into this bar,

already drunk, someone’s dignity in me.

So imagine

how I felt when I looked at you

and thought of how

your lips could give hope to this bruised city.


Buy me a drink, quick.

I need a coffee more than the number of times

I’ve thought of asking for a kiss

because I am a lawless city

and you,

you led the god damn revolution.


What I’m saying,

is that,

is that, this is all on you.


The water in this glass

tastes like petrol

or maybe metal down my throat,

I can’t decide

because I am so drunk right now,

my fingers sext-exting

for a cab home (jesus) before I am anymore of a fool

for telling you the truth.


Anything could happen.

We are two lonely people in a room with

too many empty glasses,

too many hopeful people who still believe

that if I closed both eyes,

I could trust a beautiful face to carry me home.


But my car is here,

if I close my eyes now I might throw up on you.


I leave.

I’ve already thought enough of you.

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