Fragments of A Faulty Memory

My dear, a date in this month marks my 27th trip around one enormous star yet so little inside you. Should I celebrate? Some do, the others don’t. Should I treat you? I’d love to, my way.  What about little secrets, the spark I felt just now in my heart and a tiny constellation of my mind? Alright, dear. First, it's my love for the idea that my time revolving around the big star is by chance an endless series of finding a purpose in the journey itself. It's also a faith I love to keep that this journey is an endless struggle of embracing the certainty that you will never tell me in voices, in words so clear whether I have found the true purpose. Only you can measure the amount of truth in each purpose I came up with. But I have the strongest love for this idea that maybe I am here, so tiny inside you, to feel a new spectrum of emotions along my journey.  I love to believe that those emotions are presents you sincerely gave me each time, and it’s a quest to reveal them all. Do ...

Dear Liana, have you seen a rainbow lately? Your mother just saw two at once On the sky above a land your grandparents can’t reach May their heart never aches more As the daughter herself is no longer a familiar body Dear Liana, do you name trees and leaves? Your mother does sometimes On this land where winged meranti fruit dances with the wind, gently kiss the earth May the seeds on the forest floor sprout in joy Though the dryads fade, besieged by the fire of greed Dear Liana, do you know the color a rainbow parades?  Your mother thinks it’s colorless On this land or that land where olive trees grow, it’s the same color(less) May the trees know the hands that planted them So the vile savages find tears filling their lungs, bitter than the blood of martyrs Dear Liana, do you see a woman wailing as she hugs a leafless tree? Your mother sees it even in her dreams On the land covered with bloods of poets, newsmen and chopped pieces of children May the kites a little girl made fly up ...