Old heart,
are your eyes still clear enough
to see the beauty
beyond those wrinkled lines?

Old heart,
your limbs have weaken,
your bones can be easily broken,
but do you still dream of running after her?

Old heart,
how do you mourn for lost love?
Does it bring you tears at night
knowing that there wouldn’t be anyone
next to you when morning comes?

Do you still reach out in the darkness,
hoping that there would be a hand
to meet your touch?

Does it fill you with longing
for companionship that is
no longer there,
when you look across the table?

Old heart,
   how painful it is for you
to wait for the time,
   when your two old hearts
will be united once again.
— September 2014

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When I see old people eating alone, there’s a tiny ache in my heart that I couldn’t place and this is my feeble attempt of expressing it. Along with more underexposed photos from my second film roll. Bikes with baskets fascinate me (it’s in my bucket list to own one); along with the carousel it reminds me of childhood memories.  Youth and age blends here.