Syrup-Sweet

By Lydia Lim

backlit by neon lights and syrup-sweet haze,

belly laughing bashful-like and 

lightning-struck into the backdrop, blank-faced.

in the diner, we slide into red cushioned booths 

and smoke cigarettes, breathing out smoke

like ghosts on the circus floor. i steal a fry 

off your plate, and your knee knocks 

against mine. we smile

and shed our jackets, dropping them 

into the backseat. you know what i want, 

i really want waffles right now. at 11p.m? yeah. 

get your stupid waffles. syrup drips 

over the crispy batter, glossy struck

and eclipsed with the sugar. one night, one 

dinner, one maple stained toothful 

before it all blow wind blows away.

By Lydia Lim