the paper lie with its half in as the remain flaunt with the air.
a peek at the last line open my sluggish heart to curiosity with the safest energy,
I found myself digging at removal.
dusty and rumpled with strokes of emotions and silent pain
this is written decades ago,
a century before the dinosaurs and big bang theory
before the emergence of Adam and Eve.
”If only you knew how my heart becomes yours” it read,
”every tear behind your smile struck me like a chain, tied around my neck”
print of tears hang on the sheet,
drawing the image of an unexpressed love tired of hiding.
“If only I could tell the three words to you in one sentence…
‘but here in these sands, dear Carolina,
will I bury my written love for you, that nature be the witness of my pain as you step on the edges of my heart”. George.
I dig the sand making a hole, this time it’s a deep one, long as my hand and bury the letter in.
At least, if I can’t help George tell Carolina about his heartache love. I can help him re-bury his letter so the sands can absorb his pain in years to come.
Lo, between the crowdy legs,
is a beach love letter that was never given nor expressed
just between the sands, behind the smiles and around the edges.
Like a white _ stained with pig’s poop, you can imagine the disappointment on my face that night, my heart keeps racing trying to catch the lag.
as if the stain wasn’t enough, the smell also ruin the atmosphere. for years we had been together and she was everything I had, everything an introvert like me would want and I’m certain those four words came out at the right moment. the cloud was scanty, the moon was bright, the stars shone to their fullest and the field was empty…empty with just the two of us, isn’t that perfect? probably not a perfect setting for an extrovert, but right there it was the perfect moment of our love and our feelings attest to it (chuckles), I thought it all seem right _ a perfection but unknown there was a lag, a lag behind…
“No” the word came softly from her lips with a pierce, digging its hole straight into my heart and for some seconds, I thought my ears had pick the wrong muse, probably the wrong word. she left, perhaps she disappeared into the thin air as her word struck my heart unexpectedly, boozing me off to a broken sleep.
Awake and broken under the rain at 2am, I wander the city, moving helplessly from street to street, searching… for a broken lost love and my brain keeps asking as it pound loudly with my heart “what could have gone wrong?”.
Busyink 