M.

DAFFA SATRIA - XI 10

18 - One Direction

I got a heart, and I got a soul

Believe me, I will use them both
We made a start
Be it a false one, I know
Baby, I don't want to feel alone
So kiss me where I lay down
My hands pressed to your cheeks
A long way from the playground
I have loved you since we were 18
Long before we both thought the same thing
To be loved and to be in love
All I can do is say that these arms
Are made for holding you, oh-oh
I wanna love like you made me feel
When we were 18
We took a chance
God knows we tried
Yet all along, I knew we'd be fine
So pour me a drink, oh love
And let's split the night wide open
And we'll see everything we can
Living love in slow motion, motion, motion
So kiss me where I lay down
My hands pressed to your cheeks
A long way from the playground
I have loved you since we were 18
Long before we both thought the same thing
To be loved and to be in love
And all I can do is say that these arms
Are made for holding you, oh-oh-oh
And I wanna love like you made me feel
When we were 18
When we were 18
Oh, Lord, when we were 18
Kiss me where I lay down
 My hands pressed to your cheeks
A long way from the playground
I have loved you since we were 18
Long before we both thought the same thing
To be loved and to be in love
And all I can do is say that these arms
Are made for holding you
And I wanna love like you made me feel
When we were 18
I wanna love like you made me feel
When we were 18
I wanna love like you made me feel
When we were 18
M. DAFFA SATRIA – XI 10

MY LIFE

Sometimes I see it as a straight line drawn with a pencil and a ruler

transecung the circle of the world
or as a finger piercing
a smoke-ring, casual, inquisitive,
our men the sun wil come out or the phone will ring and I will cease to wonder
if it is one thing.
a large ball of air and memory, or many things,
a string of small farming towns, a dark road winding through them.
Let us say it is a field
I have been hocing every day. hoeing and singing,
then going to sleep in one of its furrows,
or now that it is more than half over, a partially open door, rain dripping from
the eaves.
Like yours, it could be anything.
a nest with one egg,
a hallway that leads to a thousand rooms-
whatever happens to float into view when I close my eyes
or look out a window
for more than a tew mnutes, so that some days I think
it must be everything and nothing at once.

Rhina P. Espaillat