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Lunar Oct 6
I think,
it's time to go
back home on land.
I leave the waters,
step out of the blues,
before I could drown.

I sink,
each foot entirely
in the sand.
Rooted in place,
the fine grains
anchor me down.

I ink,
your name on
the back of my hand.
I know it well,
and tell my pages:
I love you now.
to lsy; sometimes on the beach, when the sand is warm and makes me yawn, i sleep. i know i can rest on land.

(j.m.)
Lunar Oct 6
I'm always in a constant daze;
a haze of blues,
of sunset hues.

I'll keep dreaming for now;
of clouds in skies,
until I see the sunrise.
in a state of sleep, and only you can wake me up.

(j.m.)
Lunar Feb 7
washed ashore
onto the hands
of a man
I longed for, dearly.

rugged touch,
tarnished shine
and value,
treasured so merely.

back to home
seeking warmth
in the waters; on land
I was misguided, nearly.

then I knew
it was the sea
whom I belonged to
and who loved me so clearly.
dear lj, thank you for being my sea and finding me.

(j.m.)
Lunar Feb 4
looking into
your eyes,
i wouldn't think
of getting lost
in them.

instead,
your eyes
are a getaway
where i find myself.
to lj, your eyes are second home; a place i'd forever be a tourist in.

(j.m.)
Lunar Jan 15
Your clear eyes,
a sea of accumulated raindrops,
started to ripple
as I touched the surface.

In your depths I dived;
neither sinking nor losing air—
never drowning despite the rough waves
of unchartered waters.

With no fear of trenches
as deep as the Mariana's,
or fear of undercurrents
as mysterious as the Bermuda's,
I sought further to know
why I felt more familiar
in the water than on land.

Floating, swimming,
breathing underwater;
I stayed warm in your gaze,
in the calm of you.

I found myself at home
when I looked into your eyes.
For Joel/LJY, being 22 isn't so bad after all. And it only gets better from there. You once said the eyes are your favorite part of a person. I hope you know your eyes are my favorite, just like how I love the sea.

(j.m.)
Lunar Dec 2018
i could never listen to your voice;
my ears could never hallucinate.
i could never look at you for so long;
my eyes could never hold your gaze.
i could never measure your big hands;
my fingers and yours could never lace.
i could never be in your solid arms;
my hands—liquid—could never encircle your waist.

but i think i could be on your mind
and i could be written in your heart:
if you read the words that i write
when you pick up this poem and start.
to lj, an avid reader.

from j.m.
Lunar Dec 2018
for the last time
let me be a child again
as i cry over the innocence
that i will lose
once these tears have dried
for all those who are in the middle of growing up. it's hard; from falling in and out of love to fixing adult paperwork. and it's all normal.

(j.m.)
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