little trinkets

I barely get to familiarize

my lips, teeth, soft palette worked their way through

as I made effort to pronounce your name

one single syllable, maybe two



you sent me to the moon

my intentions was to reciprocate

I read your colour, your portrayal, identity

innate and the acquired

details I once recovered and worship, I grasped

bittersweet

"not going to let you in"

and you're not going to run away



you apologized on your morning breath

we're all of the same mechanics

I like it when we bubbled up in this space

nothing cuts through like a blade

this mysterious land of blue

we found each other

like how we found our pasts



perhaps that kiss

indicates a touch of tender

perhaps, all that a of thought - an act
                                     we strive to make exist

x-axis

we lined and formed a curve, of the same axis

just so our eyes won't meet

our bodies won't touch

our hearts won't skip



bathed under the sea of sound

syncopation, leaps and unpredictability - a rebel,

a warm crowd

subject, and the distractions

we hope to be drowned



boy you have no idea

my gargantuan thoughts of the romantic

how they engulf one like a tidal wave

boiled under this lid of a pot

my treasures to be kept but found overflown



just like how we gain,

and loose control





my subconscious was called

none other by you -

and all supported courses of distraction



wish I was the one

standing next to you

in that poor formed curved line

Celebration

The celebration of the existence of one being

all crossed within the interpretations of perception, and self worth

the very idea of objectification - not only under the scopes of feminism

you and I have became the by-products, bricks of the wall

the web of capitalism



Where do our paths cross, with this fluctuating frequency

I'd prefer to soar high, or crawl under




so that's how I ended wandering in the woods, with my shadow

Specifics I

Icelandic Skyr
194 Icelandic Krona
5.215 Malaysian Ringgit

Some did their research, some observed 

you hear them from the tourists barging into that supermarket chain Bonus, 

conversations in bars, dinner tables, also camp sites

within the presence of one (1) foreign guess, at least

Then I told myself - in days where I had to refrain from a splurged meal, 

a skyr would be best for me

I've heard of stories - how every Icelandic household stocks at least a plain flavoured skyr in the fridges

I'll drop by grocery shops so that I could get extra skyrs with me

just so I could express myself the way they are familiar with 

to my new friends

actually I do not know if that makes sense - giving them love the way they know best

via tubs of skyrs

how minimal 

I've heard much more from what everyone else from the other parts of the world talked about

I've heard of how it used to be only plain skyrs available in the markets, back in the days

I've heard of how skyrs are made before mass production took place

where children get to be fed daily, so that they grow strong bones and teeth

Of course, there were those days where I buy myself some bananas and two tubs of skyrs, 

made my way to the line and pay my carefully optioned diet with a credit card

whenever I think of the times I spent with skyrs in public spaces,

I can't be bothered to think that I've been spoilt with the best of my senses

with as much skyrs I could possibly have 

while I was in Iceland

Earth

"Just put your feet on the ground"

That, (was how) I was invited by the endless dawn of what summertime has to offer.

I stood in the middle of no where with 3 other of-the-same-kind that I've just met.

I forgot how we came to meet, of the sky and earth, mileage and wind force, velocity...

and the speed of light.

Thoughts surfaced on the mere corner of one's eyes, when promises to the self was made. 

Silent as all curses are taken measures to be prevented - 

I need no grounds to have my existence marked, for this, this promise I made to myself, 

would be enough to feed my hunger, the depth of my imagination.

When I opened my eyes and absorb upfront,

this land, the lava fields and the vast of space - the physical, had me welcomed like a mother ship.

I twisted, tossed and turned in disbelief, somewhat like one of those sleepless nights,

yet a voice whispered so clearly, to my ear,

"just put your feet on the ground"

recognition

those sitcom parodies sounded very nostalgic

my source of happiness, derived from the contentment of decoding messages

topped by the familiar extremes of simple indulgence

of sodium packets and capitalized coffee chains



today I sit on a rather different realm, creating different experiences

it has nothing to do with lessons, since each page

is a brand new breed that writes his own column

long live - doesn't lead you to a goal



I can't help but to not be absorbed by the after effects

consequences I once hand painted

they glided through air, without my control

as I sat firmly on the ground, my roots retained



I am then in love of myself, the more comfortable of my own skin

darkness prevails

as I smiled and

butterflies

The morning I woke to you

my hand cupped on your shoulder

you sleep like a gentle gaint

breathing through your calmest nodes

             you never liked the sun too bright

I absorb,


as I take pride in your happiness





I remember how you kissed my forehead

manifesting the actions of love

onto a new found subject

skillful, you were


walls fall apart

I forgot of how to speak





that morning

our fields overlapped

you picked a flower from the ground

one that I told you about

hence one that I resemble in your faded shades


I wonder how much it came with a meaning

I wonder where they stood



pass and present juxtaposed with a tinge of newness

rebuilt, as we forget



I cannot recall

how nonsensical your speech sounded

before we get to move on to our preferred, comfortable zones








it then came back,

a dried, well kept flower

with a load of memories

recovered, like singing in the woods

I wondered again

how much was it traded for

to be again, manifested as a symbol of distinction



maybe that is what you were out for

and maybe, I was out roaming to be killed