030610 It's Fresh Like Mine Poem by Manonton Dalan

walking at fish market
fishes lay still on ice
their eyes looking at me
i can tell who's been there long
you can't squeeze them for freshness
point which one would be your dish

but i can't resist to touch
so i keep pressing my palm
and use my lips to point which one
i have it clean and cut to fry
she wrap it with paper and tag
i squeeze it before i put in my bag

she saw me, i lipsync 'did i? '
she raise her hand with smile
she said 'it's fresh like mine'