The sound of your smile reverberates in the four walls of this world — into the curvature of your lips, to the buzzing crowd, to the open skies bolting downward and and into my heart.

I try to close my eyes when the sight of you gets clearer in broad daylight, holding onto tiny prayers that as you pass, I may not be blinded by the radiance of your beauty, but be graced by the scent of the breeze that escorts you — ever so subtle that only filled gaps would be able to grasp what it felt like to really get close with you.

I try to stick out this frozen heart by the warmth of your flame, but not too close for I am afraid the fire would enclasp, swallow it whole and spit it out into ashes, but I cannot and would not stop wondering how would it feel like to set myself on fire — breathe it out, plunge into the fire hoops or dance with the fire god that is within you.

I try not to, but everytime I start to write these blues, all that comes out are the possibilities that might not even happen, a reality that is a mirage in totality.

I will try to flap these wings of mine as fast as I could, but how could I? The sound of your smile reverberating within the four walls of this world is capable of paralyzing a roaring lion — let alone a swift bird.