I did not believe you when you insisted
My wings were beautiful.
In the water I have seen them reflected –
And they were muddy as the river.
But you, how iridescent! Royal
and purple, flashing
in the dappled sun. Your wings are regal
why are you going begging?
One day it dawned on me…
we two are of a kind.
Your wings are mine. But they could only be described
by the one behind.
I turned and call you to come back around
But you are spellbound
Lost, and cannot again be found.
– Tembeling, Malaysia.

Written in the sky
Something has moved to block the sun.
We watched it ourselves, on a makeshift day with my makeshift scope. Functional, like me – not the ease on the eyes you must have, without – smoothing contouring and paint; you could not Instagram – this.
We had – coconut ice cream and chocolate mangoes. Remember the Vichyssoise – from monkey island nights.
Bobbing in the water – legs making a raft. The rising moon had Jupiter by her side. Disputed – refereed by a stellar map. And facing off with the death anchor.

Fall on me.
Down the hill, flowing – like the water cascading in rapids down the rocks. Held in comfort – subsiding calamity. Disappointment – I know. How I know.
The long words and meeting of the minds, have your back – don’t matter. In the end you must have the wheels turn and – desire the crushing, clutching fire.
But I’m a healer. A guardian.
Let me down, gently.
And say goodnight.

For something has moved to block the moon before – she can reflect sunlight back, clean to his gaze. To understand.
Too late.
The polluted aura of a damaged planet tints the rays to blood-rust. He cannot see.
So I cast away the last of your remembered light from – a tower of mirrors to – any passing craft. That the final rays of the sun’s own face may energise those he – forgot – when the sun consented himself small – enough to orbit a planet.

That poem was so so beautiful. It touched me on quite a deep level and made me think of two travelers wandering aimlessly together while not realizing the value of each other
One did, but regrettably too late.
And yes, it was something like that – although it was more like two travelling ‘around’ each other, like butterflies would. A year that could only be expressed in poetry, for now. Thank you for feeling it.