5:22 p.m.
wednesday noon —
the balcony
***
and then i
remembered
father. how i
wish he was
still alive —
then maybe
my witch of a
mother would
feel warmth
and love.
he would often
collect trinkets,
especially seashells.
he was very fond
of it, bringing me
along with him to
the coast. he always
reminded me to
collect my own.
memories he
called it. i did not
understand it
that time. but i
know that he
wouldn't want
me to stop
collecting. for
they are the
photographs
in life.
***
YOU ARE READING
Our Vintage Dance on the Phonograph
Puisi"you and - me, we traversed at the eve of the colossal pages of our bedroom balcony." - excerpt there is no other dancing partner i would dance with other than you, my sun. you bring me to places that are wiped out of history - to the gardens of rui...
