what is there to be bewildered about?
when the sun glows on your skin
and the flowers bloom in your heart
what is there to be confused for?
when your skin touched my bones
they radiate with light
when your heart caressed my soul
the pigments intensify
what is there to be doubtful of?
when my bones start to burst
you come out for the sun
and bury me deep in your arms
when my soul turns to gray
you keep weeds out the flowers
and paint me back with fire
I rode a motorcycle this morning,
something I usually do.
When the sun hits my face
I closed my eyes,
something I barely do.
Opening them would be a surprise,
one thing I rarely get.
Everything was colorless
but I was sparkling,
something I never get.
It was all an illusion though,
and you were there.
Achromatic like everyone else
but I was sparkling,
and I’m always by myself.
the lone girl waiting
look at the pictures and tell me how your own story unfolds right your very eyes until you wanted to stop reading and actually write down your thoughts because the characters are introducing themselves and the conflict is slowly building and you know you’ve been waiting for this a very long time but the clock is ticking and the sun will eventually leave the sky and the lampposts but most importantly the girl who took these photographs until she gave up anticipating for someone to come
The star closest to the moon anticipates this time of the day like any other star in the universe, when the moon is about to come out and stay with them. But his spot is the most coveted of all, he could bask in the glory of the most beautiful creature the stars have ever seen, the majestic moon.
Ever since this star learned that the sparks from his skin are the moon’s guide in finding her place, the star worked hard to shine more. Even though his brightness cannot be appreciated by the weird creatures below to which they shine for because it’s the moon they look at, it’s fine with him, for he knows that the moon appreciates him.
Appreciate. It has become the word he loathes the most. The moon appreciates him. The moon just appreciates him, unlike the sun she loves so much. The star could witness every day how the moon would linger so just she could gaze at the sun from afar. Then all the other stars would sleep because the sight is such a pity to behold, they don’t want to see the moon hurting—for the whole universe knows that the sun and the rain are seeing each other, no matter how forbidden their love is. And the sun wouldn’t even look at the majestic moon, the most beautiful creature the star has ever seen.
It’s ironic how the star would shine for the moon, how the moon would linger for the sun, how the sun and the rain would fight for their love, and how this weird creature below would root for the star.
It is proof enough that one’s existence in this universe would never go unnoticed, no matter how we think of it as such.
P.S. This story is connected with The Sun and The Rain. I also had a hard time looking for the photo’s source but my search led me here.
The sun and the rain met earlier. He waited for her. They seldom see each other, and he misses her. Their love is one that you would call complicated, forbidden even.
What the rain dampens the sun dries up. When the rain arrives the sun fades out. But in times when they can no longer endure the rules of the universe, in times when they terribly miss each other, they defy their gods and misbehave.
Oh they make the sweetest pair when they meet. The searing heat of the sun breaks the frigid chill of the rain, making the perfect condition one could only wish.
Gentle, fine, steady. They make love like they can hold each other forever—not rushing it even though they don’t see much, couldn’t see much.
The sun and the rain met earlier. Their time was short, their relationship forbidden, but they love each other.
And somehow, that was enough.