N. 

Recognising the face – Same small eyes and same sealed lips. 

Beauty spots still all in place; not a new or old one out of the constellations of his smooth skin. 

Maybe the chin became sharper and the cheekbones higher. 

Did he always look like that when he doesn’t smile? 

I used to love it when he smiles. 

Recognising the arms and the frame of his lean body.

It was just ten years ago when I leaned my small face on his shoulder.

Realising our heights made the fit almost perfect;

Young and awkward but comfortable. 

I wonder if it would still feel the same now or if he has grown taller. 

I cannot tell while standing right next to him on the bus; 

So near yet one pole apart. 

Our eyes do not meet anymore. 

Even if it is a glance, we meet walls and not souls. 

No longer recognising his spirit or,

The once passionate heart he would share with me.

So candidly through primary school stories of lost pencils and eraser fights, 

Or sharing one water bottle after late night classes of tae kwon do on the basketball court. 

Bruised legs crossed and swatting mosquitoes out of sight. 

I wonder if you would respond if I called your name. 

Would I see that little boy turn with his arms wide open, or would he be like the younger me?

No longer there anymore. 

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