13.23 PM

looking at the sky long enough before the sun sets on the west, pinkish sky beyond the window in my tiny room, with no thoughts in the head. in my mind we are sitting on the porch swing, drinking our coffee and I reading a book I bought from the last flight we took on May as you hold my hands. days with you were and are always calm like a slow burn love, like a candle that lights up the room, like a green emerald, like an evening sunbeams that enters the window, like a hat that covers the head from the sun, and just like the scent of your perfume which i like most. 

13.23

tenderness is the shape of your eyes, when you stare at me; when you hold my hand, when you drive me home. 

it has been increasingly difficult to put words together the more time passes, but today listening to the fondness catch in your voice, it seems as if peace is not too unattainable of a thing. The thought of you crosses my mind almost as many times as I draw breaths in; but forgive me, words have been scattered and too much like dreams that leave me drenched in a warm feeling of familiarity; of belonging even if it is only for a moment that does not linger too long unlike the fading light of a rainy day that you are not witnessing with me. sometimes i’d lie on my back on my yoga mats in the morning and wonder how your pair of dark brown eyes spark and glow when the sunbeams echoes in your pupils. when i think of tenderness, i think of you and your eyes, how its melt when you laugh, and how mine are unable not to look away cause my cheeks are blushing as pink as the pink soda everytime you smile at me.

it has been a while since i had been home; i have missed you. it is quiet now and it is above mid night, there’s a warm rushing yet calming through me.

102.7

in the quiet spaces, in the pauses between radios, in the stillness that stretches between moments. in between melodies of your favorite songs played on the radio, it has left imprints of memories in every pages that we wrote. i find you as a source of comfort, closer and closer to me, closer than i could be in the reality we live in. 

[Prague, June 30th 1999]

the sky was grey as pale as my cold skin beneath the windy morning that day. i wore my white knit vest and a black scarf; you with your black shirt and white shoes. my nails were colored, i painted it soft blue the night before. how did you feel that night, if i may ask; for me i swear it was the hardest. 

you going away to the north;

northern hemisphere, hundred miles away.

i look at the moon and i see you. north of here, twenty hours by the sea. and if i were lucky enough i could probably catch you in less than two hours by the sky above. 

i have something to ask for: give me tulips from the Netherlands and an old love. 

where’s the moon?

i quietly stumbled upon words on the page one of an old paper from the orange journal above the grey storage beside the tidy bed. the clock was past above midnight, almost 2am in the morning. blue curtains on the right side of the bookshelf, big world maps hanging on the white wall. i would like to write a letter to my beloved. i would like to write a letter to the sky, asking him where’s the moon. it’s been days, gloomy, cloudy all day all night. the moon was out of sight, the cloud was all over the atmosphere. i had a quick convo with Mr. Night Sky last night, the sky told me; calming the rush inside my heart, “even if you are not able to look at the moon with your bare eyes, you shouldn’t be worried, for it always is up there. it would never leave you alone with the dark empty sky. it will always be there. worry not, my dear. the moon is there within your heart”

i heard gravity did tie the moon to the earth, it’s like holding hands i guess. the earth loves the moon so much. day and night both being the witnesses of how pretty the moon was and still is. do you know and can you and would you describe within your own language about how beautiful it is to have the moon around, to have it all shining and looking all mesmerizing from up above the starry night sky. and in this indescribable numbness in between the day and night; “how does it feel being loved by the moon so very deeply?”

do you know why i like to learn foreign languages? so that i could understand the language that the moon speaks, so I wouldn’t misunderstood upon things between the two of us. 

do you know why i like to write down some poems? so that i could tell you in a much better phrase about things between constellation and the northern lights.

do you know why i like to read a book? so that i would understand things that i haven’t mastered yet about the knowledge between the past, present, and the future. in the hope that i can share it all the memories of the past, the joy of the present, and the hope of the future with you. can i?

do you know why i like to daydreaming with both my eyes wide opened while letting the ocean breeze gently touch my face? so that i could make a dream come true within hopes and the waves in the name of the vast blue both explored and the unexplored ocean.

how do i tell the moon that im currently lost and need to be found. how do i tell the moon that i have so much stories to tell, how do i tell the moon that i haven’t felt like myself lately, how do i tell the moon that i really need a hug right now, how do i tell the moon that i really need a shoulder to cry on, how do i tell the moon that i miss the smell of that one perfume, how do i tell the moon that the cassiopeia is now waiting for the moon to write her back, poems and letters from the last journey the moon had over the orbit. 

“how do you spell your name, anyway?”

“you don’t know how to spell my name?”

“i thought everyone does know the right spelling of mine”

“it’s started with the 13rd letter”

“‘M’ it is”

“it’s your guess”

“it is M-O-O-N”

“hmm not quite right actually”

“how so?”

“you can spell it M-I-N-E, for you are indeed my favorite one on the entire universe”

do you know that all the good beautiful things started with the letter “M”?

Moon

Mountain

Miracle 

Music

Magic

Money:)

Mango

Mermaid

Midnight

Meow

.

.

and you

the moon said “see you soon” and that’s what keeps me going.