Lately, I have not loved
I have not loved anyone but myself.
The worry of wanting beyond oneself distresses me
It makes me act like a child in a world of grown expectation

Still, the look of his eyes made me no more than a little girl.
But the world is beyond playgrounds

And the pearl of my centerpiece
made me stand on my own ashes

There was no time nor pain in your house.
I wanted someone who asked me to never let go.
Not a spouse,
A full-time worshiper loved in part-time.

Once you were a given,
I’ve seen that I was the sun for my gloomy days
The sakura of my February spring
There were no more blurry lines from which to be rescued
and no longer giving what could be spared

Indeed I healed the heart I neglected when I left for you
And when it's cold outside and I need to be cherished
There’s no despair
It’s not love
It's only spoiling for an affair

The night is fallen on the East side
Withhold your breath all that stand in the cold
The threshold of peace, not all can afford
When Sitting on the eyes of the storm, the frosty auric slowly abide

Numb your senses, numb your feelings
B’cause tonight is the night of ruling kings
Could all this fortune be your bliss at last?
Or could your bliss your curse become?

Honey dripping from your mouth was my abundance
Instead, you chose among the capital sins
a life of mundane existence and beaming grins

Your hands move steady
But caresses run wild as our kisses dash unfeasibly
The need to attain the out of reach is the pay for pernicious gold.

Oh ... but you’re a tragedy!
Upon one glance you see,
only see darkness in his dark brown eyes,
He tries to conceal it

But certain truths cannot be denied

When I stumbled into him
The cold of his eyes slowly my ticker paralyzed
I would love him for most days
Ignorant of the grey that involved him

It wasn’t love expressed in the most loving way history has ever been told

But oh boy, oh boy
That man was a tragedy
He would freeze me in his embrace
And let go almost on my second last breath
Thirstily murmur the tenderest words poets ever spoken

Though it was only poetry if professed by him

The wildest spirit I ever knew
Couldn’t be borne by no carnal form
that would be taken in this life

My sweet sweet woe
Do not grow any fonder within me
I won’t say it was love, but I would love you until the sea creatures needn’t the ocean to survive

If it’s love, let me pursue it
If it isn’t love, let me ordeal it
And enjoy the most pleasurable suffering that no pains ever caused

This cloying woe I would endure for the next three lives, possibly more

I always carry with me some rain in the pocket of my pants

To irrigate the yellow meadows of the paths I travel in this world
When the nights are not clear at daybreak
And its silence almost deafens me
I take a little rain out of my pocket
And your melody is my only company

Occasionally when I wear my jeans with fake pockets
I carry rain in the pocket of my t-shirt
A small pocket in the lapel
Just for precaution
Because maybe today is the day when the skies will claim you back

There were times when I wanted my skin to tell the happy stories of my childhood, and of my present fresh youth
Instead, it told tales of strenuous anguish

But the rain cleared these tales
At least most of them
Now my skin says nothing and my voice chooses what to share

When the days are terribly hot but dark
And suddenly breathing becomes the most difficult task of the day,
I ask her to rain torrentially

And when I'm home alone reading a book near that small window in my room
She remembers to keep me company,
She remembers that at two o'clock in the afternoon, a book and I tune in
and she serenades to me

When happiness felt like a cool breeze of air on a hot July day
I could nearly swear that I saw the tree branches swinging at a melody imperceptible to anyone else,
In a foreign language , I understood what it said
“ Tilt your head back and let the current embrace you”
              
Whispering
“ Take it in your arms”.

When happiness irradiated from me
I felt intoxicated of all passions humanly possible
As if the love of Aglaea and Hephaestus had once again been revived

Is it possible?
Is it possible?
Is it possible for Ecleia to be reborn anew?

In a joyful conspiracy, the skies murmured
“Tell me what you see,”
“Tell me who you are”

Among the plants of glory, a water drop showed me that
when happiness arose at an unexpected time,
on a hot July day
Happiness had the same familiar features of a once dispirited being
Happiness was easeful and disturbingly calm

Happiness looked like me
Happy was I.

I lent my heart to the ocean hoping that all those who sought it, would find it as palpable as the moonlight is to me

But all they wanted and saw was the shadow of a moon that reflects the pounding beat of a fazed heart

Heart started falling apart
oh bleeding heart,
I saw them drifting into empty seas

Drowning, drenching, engulfing

Wiped out

I saw them finding redemption in the high sea,
Tired of draining sins of lust
Love was born to die in shallow waters.