aint that mister mister on the radio, stereo...

silly dancing singing-alongs while youtube chants out the bubbly chorus
"aint that mister mister on the radio, stereo..."
we swayed we turned twirled a little fly rocket high and landed softly on our giggles
wishing if we could just be a little taller a little lighter a little younger
if only the first hey follows the last night without hesitation
then we can wish on dream on go on
with life.

mister bf and sister mum and I
sat face-to-face twitching iching switching glances
let the egg benedicts the macaronis and salmon speak
give us a minute to find the right words the right dent on the couch the right smile
BOUTIQUE BOULEVARD flashed uninterestingly overshadowed by lavander's flirt
"hey there finish the macaronis" "too much eggs. eat that for me"
mum giggled.
i laughed.
she blushed.
he ate.
i never had the chance to find out where the boulevard actually is.

he fidgeted all the time as mum put on her heels. the black book of playingcards in his embrace.
i skipped guiltily down the stairs. 5 minutes late. per usual.
I entered the lift. he joined the silence. impatience is suffocating.
"those cards. you bring them with u all the time. like a personalized bible "
"its essential. when you play you need to know your cards."
the universe of boy games' an abyss. esp the brother's.

i should stick to feelings but not facts
usually words come naturally as i search within my heart
but this time i spotted complications. facts presented themselves more adequately so.
no judgements. no ratio decidendis.
this time i only want to remember the facts and facts only.

for love. for family. for ever

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