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23h · 18
Lazarus
On this beach where lies the memories, tangled in between the sea fairies’ wings and hidden between the algae.

I am sitting on a driftwood bench with the Sun

He told me, “i will hang for a while, you seemed lonely”

“Radiant,” the first thing i said to him.

“Thank you, many people seemed to say otherwise,” he replied.

and for a while i sat on a driftwood bench on this beach.
overlooking the black sand all over us, with equally black water on the beyond.

They seemed to be on my toes, my legs, my arms,

Because when wetness meet the rough, it’s just adhesive.

“You are one to live in denial, aren’t you? ,” i opened another conversation

“Well aren’t you too?,” a quick comeback.

He expected a laugh, he did a good job for a light joke there. Too soon. because what i said next was,

“Yea, it’s easier that way.”

He moved closer, offering warmth I’ve longed for.

“I’ve heard of you from my wife, you used to tell her stories. She looked after you even though you didn’t ask as you pestered her with the stories.”

I pulled my wet black hair to the back of my ears, and looked him in the eyes,

“yea, she heard you, she heard every story.”

The thunder hurling from afar, though gray clouds which once were hanging, started to drift apart.

“Never feel lonely. we’re here for you.”
07/04 25
Strolling
Sauntering
Down the tropical alley

Her eyes are soft, rounded
Hidden well behind her sharp thin shades
Her hair is black and bouncy
Framing her gentle chin
Those lips deep burgundy
In her cone, soft-serve, strawberry
Her tongue licks it over and over,
You wished it was you, secretly
Her dress is airy
Flowy and flowery
Smells like those daisies
Perfect for showcasing her beauty

She’s steady
She’s ready

She’ll make you fall if she may
And she’ll **** for a pay

And her eyes are on you
Behind those shades of blue
Her eyes are on you
In between those strands of hair, blown by the wind,
She will use that Girl Mini, her words will be the last thing you hear, as her muzzle touches your skin,

“Bonne nuit, mon rayon de soleil.”
03/23 2023
23h · 5
Countdown
Countdown
It’s almost as sure as the apocalypse, or centennial planetary alignments, as old as time and as sure as the sun setting, its rising, it’s within the air, waiting. An ancient curse spelled on us ever since the dawn of the day, ever since our inceptions.

Yet this second, all of that doesn’t matter.
When my pink nail beds, shone under our dimmed, warm, bedroom light.
As my fingers races each others all over the warm surface,
the trails I left on you are beaming, you’re incandescent.
Almost looks like cracked earth’s surface with lava underneath.
The true you peeking through.

And when you sighed the deepest sigh,
I can almost hear primal bellow ripping through,
the hunger, the thirst, the longing, the glistening molten gold,
ready to drench and mold me into one of your statues,
and with your faintest lick from my collar bone to my left earlobe,
in between these sheets and my moan you whisper,
“Nothing is permanent, my baby.“

And I think it’s safe to say that I am about to burst
my bubble. As I burst under you, with my half-closed teary eyes, blurry,
And my longing mouth opened, looking for yours.
And you keep thrusting me even after, spasm-inducing ******,
like running through the rain and got drenched all over,
water is seeping in to my shirt, my undergarments, absorbed in to my pores.
Its coldness is almost deceiving, contradicting itself when warmth appears gradually.
Enveloping me. You’re my hypothermia.
The pain I embrace, the pain I wore with pride, the death I welcome.

Acknowledging our fate is the beauty, of cherishing what we have deeply.
The fear of losing each other is nothing, compared to our rendezvous,
we have endured it again and again, to even notice how hurtful a good-bye is.
I am left in smug, knowing that even though, your touches will forever perish soon,
I would still find you next time.

and as much as I wanted to curse our fate, thinking that we’re ******,
way too deep, the trench of Mariana depth,
the footprints we have left,
breaths we let out,
sounds we made,
dreams we dreamt,
words we've spoken and written down,
all through times,
are all true and I am here because of you.

my love, if forever we need to run from fate that seeks to claim,
and forever we have to endure until there’s not enough to maim,
then I don’t mind,
they better have a good aim.
28/01 – 04/04
2022
About a Muse,
South Tangerang, Banten

— The End —