等着你回来

For the song of the deadly couldn't have you called



the space kept warm for your return

the faded fragrance of that handmade soap left on the table

replaced by a shorter span of sizzled onions

as they filled and travelled -


an illusion

the juxtaposed reality is that our coexistence collide

only in certain circumstances

and that we will never cross the path with a specific intention





I am capable to put up a mock run

to have you loved with open arms

for the sake of reinforcement

a mechanism to immunity

when it could be much convenient

to see you rise and fall, predictably




I can sit here all day

to run my desired reality

and the void

in parallel planes

as I witness the heart wither




it shall take the cycle of course

until one day, when we decide to evolve

anonymity

a pet ground hog for a keep

limited to only a vertical posed stance

stylized  messages

stories I desire to tell

    my outward presentation

    who do I speak to / who do I owe my expression to




none.





I fell in love, as permitted

with a blend of the dark and fair

regardless, a pure blood / hybrid

when we touch I swore

I ran a hundred thousand miles per second





If only we were given a sky

I would let my horses gallop

my sheep wander

to tough terrains

steep, angled stones

that was why we met


that only moment shared




let me illuminate your sea of black

like those creatures

no name to be consumed

no face to be remembered

Alice skipped

for 12 hours, red rouge stained her lips

a day Alice gets to be lost

trip and fall

dust and gold

there is no goal, but vague painted shapes and sequences

whatever comes, I embrace

whatever counts, all picked


Alice created a coded zone

for visitors of the same wave length

sometimes they speak in a most familiar language

sometimes - not meant to be decoded


there was no dishonesty

there was nothing to be shunned, nor shy off

this endless flow of fountain

I love generosity, I remembered

the abundance of fuel that pumped me

up to the sky

up, up to the sky



for I am blessed, when I count what's gained

when you don that glow you walk out with

all things beautiful will be attracted

as you emit light in abundance

concave

We despise the norms of what is written in the society contract

individuality, a less celebrated content

relationships defined within a hollowed core



Low moans and a dried socket,

I searched for you, high and low



An evil game, we played

false smiles unleashed

false intentions

a package we sell

where lands our form of freedom?



Shall we recall

how sweet the scent tasted

the morning when the birds chirped

those little details you capture

when time stood still

when all seems to precious to pass



like how we'd kiss goodbye

yes, kiss goodbye

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