The dot at the end of ‘still’ was everything my mouth couldn’t spit out. I still want it to have closure, a piece of tangible evidence for you to believe. I still want it to end the way I think it should be ended. My feet were still wandering around in each night we’d had. Everything seems to be seen, the weakness of the soul that wanted to be held, the confusion of ours, the presence of your being sitting beside, land a tender voice to its ears. The warm air shrouded and woke my sense as I dissolved bit by bit and slipped away to your skin. I sense your heartbeat as fast as mine, beating on one tempo and melodic rhymes.
In the state where you asked for a drop and I’m still giving you the whole ocean instead, has never been enough for you to trust my eyes. Was honesty way too fast to be told? Or is it just you who blindly ignore my words?
These roots of mine have come to their time to fight the season. One by one, petal has fallen all the way for me to reach your shadow. Catching your eyes glance and hearing your lungs breathe is the last thing left in me. You leave it as you walk by to the summer, yet I’m still sitting by the winter, longing for your embrace. In the midst of this rain of snow, I save you one warm thick coat in case you are willing to make a way up to the north and lift the sun for me once again.
Let me, for several times or until elsewhere, hang my soul towards our elapsed time. Crossing your path had me glad to its fullest. Despite that, I still want us to walk on a path that hasn’t yet belonged to us. A path only you can direct me to, only one path for me and you to walk to. And I will let time go that way, the way it wanted to prove it to you as I want to make you believe one truth to be told. I want you, still.
