𝑨 𝑺𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝑻𝒐 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑽𝒐𝒊𝒅 [ 𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑑 ]

Demoiselle of 1989

Addressed to: a pretty demoiselle who wore red lips from 1989.

Looking back from all that existed, the feeling of euphoria never seemed to leave me. I was the naive lass of August 2001 that was incarcerated by your artless charm; the white three-fourth polo that you wore on the breezy day of June never left my mind and the saccharine giggles that came out from your dreamy red lips intoxicated my sanity. The honeykissed wind blowing your hair made you look like a thesp that starred in vintage movies, emphasizing polaroids and mixtapes and vinyls. My mind was taken away and looking at you, I was caught somewhere far away. Your unblemished entirety took me in a meadow where carnations grew, gradually covering the white fence of a little abode somewhere unknown, but I was certain that it was a paradise- that I was in an eden and that was because of you.

Summer mornings passed along with the seafoam touch of the summer nights, but still- you were in my mind: lodging inside, but that time, you were the one who held my sanity together, never letting it slip away. I was the clueless teenager who wrote sonnets and Italian villanella for no one, but that day, I was certain that from that day onwards, I would be writing for you.

Looking back to my very first day of meeting you, it was a beautiful disaster. It felt like I was stuck along the trailway of Mt. Everest- lost and forgotten and with no hopes to be back at home. I was hopeless yet I was chased by an avalanche: I was struggling to live, fighting a fear that I could not fathom but it was hopeless and so I gave in. I let myself be buried in your beautiful disaster, but instead darkness and death welcoming me, I was kissed by the lightest light and there I was- on the seventh heaven with you.