Beauty

175.

Not all secrets have to be filled with the weight of a drowned corpse, guilt hanging on the leg one cannot shake loose. I am accustomed to keeping sad things secret, but more so for the happy things too.

There’s something about preciousness that cannot be shared with others, lest beauty and wonder is lost. Don’t gain partial ownership or the ability to change it up, let it stay an unbroken memory for the cold days ahead. I am no fool, to leave a gem on the beach for the enchanting ocean to steal.

Call me selfish, and I will perhaps find no heart to deny — for sometimes we hold on so tightly until the insides of our palms make crescent cries. Take a look at what is photographed in quiet, the boundless whispers stalking across the mind. The things to immortalise.

I don’t know about you (if you exist), but for me? With numbers need not be told, I have stood in a place watching, hoping to remember for always.

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172.

I know what it is like to cradle regret

To search for a ghost long gone

Shyly keeping the umbrella of two to oneself

Wavering in grey principles

Trapped in the labyrinth of the mind.

 

And yet I know also to grab on to chances

To say I miss you more than ever

Sending the letter written hastily

Hand reaching out despite not knowing

Leaving doubts and fears behind.

 

Sometimes chances and regrets are going to look the same but until I know what lies in my hands, I will choose to stay.

160.

Is it preposterous that I am in want to protect you?

More so when it is only recent that I have come to know you. Somehow, slowly through moments miniscule, you have become unexpectedly dear to me. From the impulsive lending of the cap to asking if I’m doing okay, there are various sides to your easily won smile. The little things you do, showing that you care. Leaning forward, running to offer aid.

Came to me in the night you did, and I am grateful. Showing me a shadow that might cause alarm and distress, but it only made me want to hold you closer. Give me time, let me gather much armour, sword and shield to keep these disturbances away. Bring with us a light that never ends.

Sitting by the table just there, I cannot help but to watch you. Note the seldom serious look and the handsome haircut. Your hands, they relax on the surface before the next conversation gets them into expressive gestures. Quietly laugh.

Yes, perhaps it is preposterous to yearn protecting you. Though you stand tall and seemingly immovable, this is what you have done. Have me drawing one step closer.

157.

How are you feeling?

 

How

 

do you find yourself just the way you are, that you sit there with arms folded across a length comparable to the horizon

 

Are

 

you alright in the things you do, where you laugh and smile at the people around you, do you find yourself reaching

 

You

 

are a treasure but do you know that? Could you very well be a treasure hidden from yourself

 

Feeling

 

down and small, like you’re never quite anything at all, but you, my dear friend, is someone I would try for everyday to grow and love more, that you are someone I will continue to care for

 

Don’t you know…?

 

Your smile makes the flowers grow.

151.

Why me? he finally asks

And the other, why

Stood smiling, unnerving he

 

I am small and rudely insignificant

More sooner gone than here

The nuisance of a sandy grain left in the shoe

Dust upon dust crumbling

Remains buried in cold earth.

 

Why you? He replies

And the other, which

Hastily looked away from the Maker

 

Upon you I lavished love and stumbling affection

A mark remaining ages after

The refuge for the raging ocean

Masterpiece in the unlikely

The soil in which the beautiful grow.

 

Why me? he whispers in quiet wonder

And the other, He

Gently extends the nail-pierced hands as a gift to be received.

148.

Little people have lives larger than their bodies can contain.

That warm glow, a space not many can hold for long. A smile that varies, expression evident at every turn of the clock.

Small is powerful, they claim, and I say it’s true still. Just a tiny fist having it raised commands much attention. This one curled by the bedside is a sight sweeter than one can expect in the dark of night. When reasoned with, tears will move even the stoniest of hearts.

Little people with a touch of magic, I hope you grow up knowing there’s more than games to play all day long. Be it pain or joy, each moment will carve the shadows sewed to the bottom of feet at eventide. This be the unspoken question feared: will the hand holding the older’s fade away, or clutch tighter?

We already know: energy bundled within is never destroyed or lost, but merely transformed. And so, where will your spark go forth in this vast world?

Yet hush now, despite these musings it’s time to sleep, wide-eyed child.

Let tomorrow slip in while you lay in bed.

137.

You remind me of the ocean.

Always ready, quick on your feet, scurrying up the way waves dabble with the beach sand. Deep in thoughts, abundant in your affection, beauty in the glistening light of the sun.

You remind me of the ocean.

Turning cold and somber, sporadically tempestuous. Muted expression, currents unruly, creatures of the moon stalking this salted space.

You remind me of the ocean.

It’s you I’m hopelessly fascinated of.

133.

My favourite memory might not even exist in your head.

A smile small and nearly impudent, the peculiar pinch of eyes while thinking deeply.

Slow gentle clap of hands when things go well.

Tremor of the ground turning into courageous steps.

This yell, childlike brimming delight, when it comes to the matters you care best.

I wonder, I truly wonder if we can ever know all of ourselves, if we are fragmented stardust particles gleaming in lives other than our own.

So maybe I am your mirror just as you are mine.

And oh, how I desire that you will continue to shine a brilliant bright.

129.

Why do people speak in the midst of a breaking?

Waiting for the boom of fireworks, the roar of a thunderclap

By the bedside of possible death, a wave of congratulations

 

Maybe this is it:

That humans have a softness for honesty

To see truth leave one’s trembling lips

To speak the unsayable because that makes it so incredible

 

Yet we fear consequence:

The rejection, the disgust, the ardent whispers turned into despicable shouting

 

We forget that consequence can also have a wellspring of affection:

The leaning of heads, an iron-grip hug, the removing of a dried leaf from one’s hair

 

We are animated dust kicking up a storm

Leaving sunshine and rain wherever we go

Footprints in the sand eventually swallowed by the mighty ocean

In spite of it all we aspire to be more than just this

 

We climb mountains, we search for new horizons

Finding for a place or someone reminding us to simply be

A map lost, and no place to return to

 

Yet one day, there will be a time when you will watch the sunrise reflected in their quiet eyes

Sleepy yawns gently tugging at the consciousness before a dangerous falling in

And when they ask why you have kept your eyes on them this is what you will say:

 

Once upon a time when no one knew

You defied the odds and became the neglected miracle in the dark

In a world filled with incalculable possibilities we are both here

I thank my God a thousand times for this incomparable moment

 

Blush they will, or turn away

Yet the sly sneak peek will show your shadow melting into theirs

This confession coming clear in spite of your speaking in the midst of a seashore breaking

 

Pick up a seashell, more than one

Build small emblems of devotion with driftwood and hard stones

Let them know, let them know, that even as you are playfully carving names in the ground

That their diminutive smile is a compass, mirthful laughter its tracks

A sign that there might be a home to go to

 

There is so much in a glance

Even as it lies wide open or a furtive sneak

There is so much more