you do to my heart what the Aurora Borealis does to the northern sky

a sense of appreciation grew from those tiny little things. all the while in an island so far way so long from home. that day I dwelled on a picture I took in August last year, for it was both such an awful yet my favorite month by far, above simply anything else. there's poetry everywhere; in the traffic light at midnight, within the eyes of strangers, behind the mountain of that green scenery, on the wooden table beside the window, on the favorite perfume which smell like a fresh floral, under the  starry night sky, in the midst of summer breeze in the park, in between dimples when you smile at me.

perhaps in my thinking, some flaw lies. I once believed surely every moment and memories I used to cherish would forever be my favorite. I might be wrong. there's this fear and grief as you solely become the reason for me to keep on going, yet I do know in this world it's either a season or a lifetime. would you please be seasonsssssssssssss with as many "s" till it be a lifetime I stay on this earth?

it might seem foolish, or I am a fool to say that you are sent here for a reason, as you are, in truth, a thousand, million reasons behind every warmth, poem, laughter, and story that we shared everyday. each night, deep down below the vein, knowing that you are here completing the tangled chaotic puzzle I got to fill in this very twisted adventure of  life. with you being around, filling this puzzle up doesn't feel so hard or no, more like it is hard but there's you exist.

on the east an hour doesn't feel like any other, each and every moment is a memory cheer up by the smell of the salty humid wind from the sea shore. I may not good at giving advices but I'd like to listen to any of your random story and complaint.

every little things that I know about you; the color of your eyes when you look at me with that smile, the way your hands hold your cup of hot coffee in a cold night on the deck by the bay, your fear of height and losing someone that you love most, the good old days you had with your friends that sometimes you miss, your mom's ripped jeans that hang behind your door that I wish you would wear it more often, wild animal that you want to pet when you were a kid, the little shake on your voice when you talk about how much you love your mom. you may look cool, hard, and all but deep down I know how fragile, soft, loving, caring, and sweet you are, the other side of you that you don't ever show it up to anyone but me. 

the sea shore, with its charming, bewitching shades of blue, and the azure sky above the horizon; that holds a thousand smile, deeper and deeper allure the beauty of nature. sometimes it's about who you are with when you listen to the calming waves as you witness the pink purplish sky before dusk by the bay near the runway. taking pics with my analog, pointing at that big ship before it sailed the sea. under the moonlight, my heartbeat was in solace, as I have found soft spot within your heart, let it be my own acceptance of the fragments that lingers in between reality. 

not all quiet spaces need to be filled with any kind of sound, surely there must be some sort of meaning to all the little things, the passing day and night, you are not merely the moon on the the northern sky, you are my favorite constellation, you are the Cassiopeia of my own constellation.
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when I go home the next summer…. (to be continued…)

P.S. you do to my heart what the Aurora Borealis does to the northern sky