I must confess,
surrounded by peaks poking like javelins,
drifting unfamiliar wafts of whooshing eastern winds,
spouting tongues that are foreign like I'm foreign from speakers,
motorbikes treading hear and there eying me suspiciously,
that ambiguous crack of the lips and slight wave,
these meals that have a common theme,
stepping into classrooms with eager minds,
following some unintended line tugging at my chest,
breathing in that thick white fog,
spinning in the countless city escapes barely able to mouth words,
it's nothing,
I revel in these times and don't regret,
but when I peek up at that same star blinking helplessly at night,
always waxing and waning begging for attention,
the moon offers it no home,
that fading light is being beaten by that purple nothingness,
being devoured into the creases of the sky,
I offer the star my mind,
to find what it yearns for,
that hand to hold,
that bonfire when cold,
those words that have been told,
cause I remember
the pain that loneliness unfolds.
