I used to envy your skull,
Of its knowledge of your brain,
On its ability to protect your essential organ,
Used to is the saddest word, isn’t it?
Because when we say it, we can’t differ, is it us or time getting older.
We used to had those jolliful first moment,
the first ‘Hehe’ you wrote,
our first matched step,
two pairs of eye stared each other,
that first forceful kiss on our way to my home.
Afterall, I used to need more knowledge about you, like how your DNA formed, which neuron formed your words, which hormone formed your fingers.
I tried to match my eyes with your height, secretly hoped you would stroke my hair,
You would tell me, ‘feel my chest, it is all thumping.’
Boy, how great would it be to never write that all in past tense.