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It was under that Jupiter sky
that we discovered a moment
that our souls could forever
come to mean,
before and after,
and wherever else
forever begins.
Watching those boats with
their blue sails full
of the Visayas breeze,
washing ashore and
turning around to run
back into the arms
of the open sea, on and on,
ad infinitum.
Standing on that beach
miraculously white,
the grains of sand that
took the sun and a billion
years’ worth of evolution to
bleach and grind gentle coral
down to miles of fine powder,
like the heavy past
that we once embraced and
only that day learned to
solemnly shake from our palms
and sift through our
loose fingers for the wind
to claim and take away.
Holding hands and a future.
It was there,
it was in that place.

And there, between
the reality of prying eyes
in every street corner
of the city we left behind,
keenly watching us, watching
for something to judge about us,
and the make-believe
that we were the last
two people in the world,
we found a sacred middle ground:
there, we were two lovers
on an island with ten thousand
other lovers who were busy
loving all the love that could
be conjured in a single night,
feeding off their passion and
contributing to the pool with
a brand of romance all our own
as we got drunk off
coconut wine, and the gold
splashed across our vision by
the fire dancers and
the near-delirious beating
of those drums that echoed
the pounding in our blood
until almost, the walls marking
the boundaries of the space
we paid for to occupy
in the Pearl of the Pacific
seemed to fall down and
our private promises joined
that collective pulse.
Nobody counted as an intruder
in that vibrant and vivid peace,
neither the awake nor
the sleeping; we were all alive
and pieces of one puzzle.

You held me in your arms
while the oceans of the world
adjusted their tides.
I slept and the music of
that beautiful chaos remained.

Later came
the dawn, migrant clouds and
valleys of warm light in tow,
replacing the starry night
and breathing shadows
and we knew we’d made it,
we had taken our fill and
bliss would always
remember our names.

“Night View” by photographer Liks


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