Comments about Vincent Wong
We always told ourselves we’d be different,
you and I.
We always told ourselves that we
would go through life together,
that we would never change.
I can still see her hair,
a cascade of molten gold, showering over her,
as endless as light that falls from the sun.
I can still see her smile,
a perfect crescent moon,
one that I could reach.
I wonder if she remembers those days,
our hands clasped, lightly, yet so heavy.
As if our bound feelings were trying to escape from us,
to take us away, to nowhere, but together.
But we were young, ...