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Revisited Merak harbor one late evening
a shape of sea fairy and colorful torches
were seen from afar , chattering calls  in 4 languages. 4 squalls in  once was a plage
their dancing  flames asked me to come closer

I hurried along the sleepy shipyards
passing massive warehouses fenced by rusty wooden doors
giant padlocks accenting  (reminded me of a  fancy cocotte loaded with blingbling)
stacks of oversized containers  solidly sat speechless.  Sleepless.

The light of each torch lifted into the sky. Seen by another eye
1883 eruption of the Krakatau crater.  130 years later the odor of its curators  
I ran closer. I fell.  I laid there a while , got up and ran again.
I lost my head and missed my right foot along the way.  I did not care.

When I arrived  the torches were there in front of me
reincarnated  into thousands inhabitants who had lost their lives
bodies covered with revolting cesspit oil  
For a second  they transformed into torches again.  One blazing in my hands.
Regretfully, I had lost my head so I did not understand.

The fairy stared . I wasn't scared.

:  come, come, …come purifying Sunda strait
dissatisfying the idiots thought it could all be fixed with tax rate
I moved toward  embracing fairy arms  
(Possibly, this close hugging love was only for beach-sea friends)

So, I united with the torches
A bit of a breach  pushed us towards the petroleum . Demolished it all.  Cannonball.
Black fog shrieking that same  words : Keep up the struggle .  Stay strong !
The alien residents might think I was making choices
but the fairy was leading me around
the torches reshaping the ghost-town

Chattering calls  in 4 voices.   4 languages.
Yet, for the officials ears , all were still voiceless.  Pointless.  



(Pulo Merak - Cilegon - Indonesia )
yann Mar 2021
maybe i was just hiding behind pride and shiny things,
maybe the shame i hold inside myself was too big to be left unseen,
bright colors and silky clothes, dozens of rings and necklaces, and the swish swish of oversized chains on oversized pants on oversized everything,

all meant to hide the ugly swirls of my hands,
the highest notes of my voice,
the round parts of a body i cant stand to see from your eyes.

or then again
it could just be called surviving.

— The End —