Back when we were young
when I could hug you
without anyone questioning why
when I could give you a stalk of stolen rose from our neighbor’s yard
when our innocence were secretly in love to each other —
that is when everything all started.
It can be said that it was just a childish whims
to hold your hand in silence
while the moon was busy courting the wolf
and the fireflies were drunk of love.
But when that one night at the edge of the seashore, when we were busy peeking at the shy stars and you whispered, “I want to be just like them. Beautiful and sterling.”
My heart felt a homemade coffee coming down from my throat
giving me a stuttering voice, and instead of staring at the celestial ones, my eyes dove down to your curious, gleaming eyes and I said, “indeed, they are beautiful.”
And so the love that we had when we were young,
so wild and fiery,
so ambitious,
made me dreamt of becoming an astronaut.
And like the old tales, it became true —
I became one, ever curious and hungry for mysteries.
You became my way to fly,
the wings that humans were too sinful to possess,
the one who made me touch the heavens and see your whole magnanimity.
As years passed,
as how universe flow its cycle,
while you became one of the brightest stars,
I became a lone astronaut in space.
I was astounded at how perfect you were with the sun’s rays embracing you while you were getting farther from me.
One page at a time,
your direction is where this journey revolves;
and each capture from my telescope
I dedicate a page for your name.
“How could someone becomes so beautiful when seen at afar? ” I asked myself.
I know it would end like this,
and as an astronaut of Apollo 11,
my heart exploded with hydrogen sparks
but instead of killing all that was left from our past
they remain as golden dust,
for thousands of years,
swaying across the universe
burning but not dying
freeing but not fading
waiting for its rebirth.
And I guess, I would love you till then.
