listening to you

as the crescent moon glistens over our smooth faces,
it caresses us with her songs of adoration, songs of a bygone time.
a wondrous exchange of individual constellation of stardust,
scattered and splattered,
a pattern amidst the chaos.

the stars see us, walking across the desert,
they giggle and whisper in our ears,
we don't have to worry.
everything that happens to you, happens for a reason.

this bond feels real, without any extra trimmings.
a simple life we lived, a simple life is all we need.
from listening to you, i found my own voice again.
this happiness i'll always remember.

in you, i found beauty.
in us, we found love.

arrival in this impeccably dusty foreign myo,
smiles and garlic given for free ubiquitously,
a sense of a new adventure dawned on us.
a short walk, barking dogs, and hanging ghost,
the drifts of your rifts reached our ears.
curiosity is my friend, acquainted and cheered.
the italian agreed on this strange episode of pure joy.
unadulterated friendships, that keeps us coming back for more.
weeks gone by, foreigners traded yet again,
these currencies slowly become obsolete,
and left us with just the local essence.

in love with the way your voice glides,
the way it seeps into the cracks of this hardened surface.
it's mysterious, intoxicating.
a liqueur of its own kind.
this talent sits on the fence, night after night,
waiting for a twirl, spark, a light ---
BOOM.
pink smoke flew out of the chimney, out of the blue,
and began a journey of merging...
filled with RC, IC; unknown pagodas, the changing weather,
thandee-fueled musical nights, youthful spirits,
sorrow hidden beneath the facade, blames and lies,
injustice in the system, generosity in all forms,
and a return to innocence.

riding on the back, wind attacking on all sides,
we felt safe in each others' presence.
"see you tonight?", a week of celebrations drenched us all.
attempting to regain that bliss, guitars laid out everywhere,
the monkey tries to be a sheep but inevitably fails.
french toasts looking for honey, thought that all hope is lost ---
WAIT.
an automobile pulled up on the curb, out came a monk.
who is it next to him? it can't be.
beers were brought back to the table, the unbelievable sunrises,
zigzagging through this barren land with a tinge of madness.
was it that morning i realised this attraction cannot simply be ignored?

your gentle ways charm, mixed tapes and notes had to be passed on.
the monk came back to roast the goat, under the starr-ious night i've seen.
of course, the guitar is always present. always.
at lawkananda, perched atop the ayyerwardy river, i should've known the symbols then.
learning songs about lost love and "bawa", you felt how moved i was.
was it that night you realised this attraction was meant to be something more than a passing greeting?

full moon waxed out, the brother seems to help, at first,
after the horse-carriage took us for a ride in the skies,
holding hands and the beginning of opening of hearts.
but when we swam in murky waters during the wee hours together,
who would've known A would later attempt to sink our boat?
as we draw closer and closer to the climax,
frolicking in the silvery liquid,
i am thankful bolehgyi came to our rescue,
setting up a bridge for us to climb back ashore ---
SIGH.

pas fin.