wars and stars.

I’m counting the stars from the floor of the dark forest. Without a tent, but with a campfire, I cloud each light with my finger, constructing my own constellation through my ghost touches. Beside my ear, I can hear your stable breathing. I gaze at your shut eyes and the slit of your lips, and... Continue Reading →

sea in a cup of tea.

Before you leave, I have to remind you to drink the coffee I prepared for you. To check if you have your car keys with you. To iron the folds and creases of your blouse with your palm. Before you close that door, you send me a warm gratitude without the brush of your lips... Continue Reading →

a foreign language.

What I had feared before happened tonight. My skin no longer recognized the graze of your fingers. Every grip and rip on my body sang a strange song to my ear. But I held your gaze and waited for your old soul to return—it did not. And so your eyes spoke the exhaustion to my... Continue Reading →

from an omen to a remorse.

Every healed wound I found on the land of your skin reminded me of the servant I became. For every open gash you brought to me came a stitch through my trembling fingers—a river of punctures into your stubborn skin, but you endured it with whiskey. I thought my anticipation and hunger to each of... Continue Reading →

whiskey and iced tea.

I made the whiskey my water, to quench the frost I needed to thaw. In a living room I shared with numerous strangers, some I had already tasted their foreign tongues, I gulped the brown liquor, glass by glass. The time I opened my eyes, I saw your figure in the corner. Your fingers bent... Continue Reading →

sandalwood candle.

It is past midnight and you are out here, somewhere far from my reach, but still around the neighborhood. Perhaps riding your bent bicycle, I am not sure. But you gaze at the stars, chin up to avoid the tears from plummeting to your cheeks (yet they still do), counting the endless lights above. Tonight,... Continue Reading →

pivot.

In the echoes of somebody else’s name, you sang the holy praises of your woes. His merry hands clouded your lips, your cheeks, your tears, and your rips until he sank his dear hands into your lungs to take your heart. But your breath did not falter; it crippled to bliss, instead. How many days... Continue Reading →

to worry.

To worry is to bite your nails and to look afar, while someone tries to tell you something, but you cannot listen. To part your lips and breathe uneasily, but unconsciously. To imagine thousands of worse scenarios, not knowing when one of these would happen. To compensate yourself by assuming the best scenario would happen.... Continue Reading →

lost traveler.

He exchanged again his afternoon break of cigarette for a cup of black coffee. His day of reincarnation loomed and he would soon lose his memories, strand by strand. But before it could happen, he wanted to remind himself of her, as long as he could. She used to come at the same hour and... Continue Reading →

tinderbox.

We were only ten fingers apart, but they could not turn into a grasp. As I dived into your eyes, the lost sea of your reflection carried a gray cloud of thunders. The blue water spilled from your lips, locking the words you wanted to speak. I tried to close your lips with mine, to... Continue Reading →

to death.

I turned off the bedside lamp. The darkness cast its sorrow along the walls of the room, but I ignored the pain I had. I sunk my head on the pillow and it molded to an embrace. I swam into my insomniac sleep and after thirty minutes, I jolted to gasp for breath. It was... Continue Reading →

a return from my post.

It was just ten in the evening, but you were already sleepy. You stretched your body in the middle of a yawn. You rubbed your eyes with grace, donning a sleepy grin. I let you sleep, even if I did not like it. I let you go, even if I did not want to. When... Continue Reading →

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