Fifty dollars; a hundred dollars.
Same bills I gave her
a few weeks back, all stuffed
neatly in a Chinese red envelope.
It’s for you birthday, and Christmas,
and Chinese New Year, all together
she said. Even though they are
at least six months away.
That’s what our love has become lately,
cram-packed in a week or so
and paid out in advance,
no room for words,
no space for debate,
anything more
it would just tear, and break.
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