he was a painter once-
in the sense of a duck, waddling
augustly chin up mild fingers
engraved with acrylic rice paddy
mosaics

his deft strokes, steady against
barn yard hum dry ruby in
watery crevices, between the skullcap
and cerebellum, between ages of semantics

his cast net he stirs
the mud-clodded ponds and
rasps, cane cracking leather,
I clasp on the waterlogged eyes out the window
airborne for some lost jungle to
salvage some sliver of a canvas

he turns to me on the wooden planks
and hand in hand we plummet into an abyss of
our own creation

from the moment i met you, i knew i would unlock my heart and invite you inside. something about your smile, the whimsy in your eyes, wild, dangerously curious. warm, waiting to whisk me away. you knocked me off my feet, plucked me from my path like a flower. you introduced me to the sun like an old friend.
                        when you lift your eyelids it’s as if you’re taking off my skin, exposing my soul, layer by layer. time awaits for you to look into my eyes so he can take a break. look at me, just look at me. look at me looking at you. i'll reflect your light for once, turn my windows into mirrors. the moment you brush my hand, touch my elbow, tap my shoulder, teacups stand still and my head’s the one spinning mad. be careful, hold still, or your every movement will send me to the moon, shattering my composure and sticking it back together in some form of awe. i’ve been there too many times already.
                       the sun rises in your irises. every morning. i swear it does, i’ve seen it. you blush when you unzip your heart too suddenly. you get shy when i take your photo and i know you don’t like it but you know it’s good for you. you see magic in everyone. you are gentle on my mind and ******* my heart. you are quick on your feet but clumsy when you're tired. you choose the dark side of the moon to explore so you can make your own light.  you hum under your breath when no one’s listening. you are so close with the sun, it burns you every time you meet. it burns you every single time. you’re slow to trust and quick to love. and it burns you. but you still love.
                       And if you are in love, you are the lucky one. respect is my upmost priority. her voice is why i hold my tongue. the way you look at her is why i hide my blush. the photos you take is why i hinder my breath. holding her hand is why i walk on the wrong side of the sidewalk, timing my steps so our fingers won’t brush. your love is why i’m afraid. petrified. it’s augustly love, love you deserve. and if you are happy, you are the lucky one. i wish nothing more for you. happiness for you. for you, i would demand the sea fit into a single bucket, wish the stars to rearrange their light to suit your perspective, ask the flowers to grow backward to grant spring a second chance. for you, i would fit my love into a friendship. i could turn the lightening in my veins into wind instead.
                      in the back of the taxi, after raising the sunset from the sand and racing the rain home, the moonlight in your hair, the breeze in mine, i told you about a love that was complicated. i wanted so to tell you the truth. and i almost did. it would have been easy. we were opening up together. it would have been so easy.
                        you’re the reason.
                       the reason i reply with a smile and not a kiss on my lips, i chase ghosts and not shadows, i slow dance alone, to the beat of a drunk-with-dreams heart. you are the reason i answer no, i pretend i don’t know. you are the reason i want to say yes.
                         when i knocked on your door beneath the stars, when i wore your coat like a hug, when we danced on the cliffs I carved, when i peeled back vulnerability and showed you my stitches and you didn't turn away but you caressed every single scar, when i asked for your name but really wanted to hear your story, i was searching for something more. so here, as i write, attempting to interpret my modern-art-piece of a heart, i ask only one thing in return for honesty: bring back the sun, paint the sky like you painted me smitten. i grew out of my old life, met you on an adventure. i’m on my way up, growing out of this pain. and while i have peace in where we reside, i hope part of you is okay hearing this, because part of me needed to say it before it was suddenly done.

                     here we are.
                     here we go.
                     letting go.

                     after all, there are other ways to meet the sun.

             sincerely,
             the moonlight

Pensively promended I, as impetuous as a poet
To accumulate few jocund inkling about belladonna

For sure, not as a bard
But,as a novice to nature

Stalked I, bare-footed anigh lake
Jabbed some spines beneath my foot

Yon reconnoitred I, do any luminuous light clandestined in water?
Else, any celestial gem floats  in lake?

Nay! it's the waxing moon in the sky
That seemed to tread on water

Paddled I into the lake
To grab some pallied lillies

Hardly perceived I any bloomed one!
Had the lillies been sailed under false colour by moon?

I knew not their intrigue
Nor had I, prescient criteria

Chillness of water benumbed me
Retrieved I, as cool as a cucumber to the bank

Is this terra God's palette?
Obviously! nature is the art of God.

Dark grey was lake's scenario
Stood reeds augustly amidst the lake

Casuarina broke into tumult
When the west wind passed adriftting it

Glow worms scattered round the bushes
Heard I, croaking of frogs

I felt languished by chillness
That pierced my breast and nostrils

Homeward bound,strolled I
For I had been there behind my father's back.

As being benumbed by drastic cold
I was at the end of my tether

Soon felt I, in the arms of Morpheus
On the grass, supine anigh lake

By morning, I began to fly off at a tangents
When an highland lass harped on my shoulder

I began to know the ropes of that wintry night
For it cajoled me to sleep resembling lullaby

No human hardly be preponderate
Than a mother and nature.