these old shades
Avon, tell me, when was it?
These old shades they never fade
These old shades they shine
The ephemeral drape of imagery
Flaps and flies through the motion
It's circular, compelling me of tenacity
To keep ringing in my memory
I buried mine in a treasure chest
That never saw a light of the day
Bring all those frivolous dresses
Have these wigs tell me it's okay
My breath took me away
In the name of a second male lead
Named Aoi. I'd call it Antoine and later on
When I keep revising these old drafts,
These old tints and glitter, they still shine
Come a decade, I say,
I never lost my jewels
Whether it be in Avon, Bond or in Piccadilly
Where? Where it should when I start to scour?
The waves of it go, it spiraled a beauty
Layers, by the surface and beneath
Take a look at the long lost sweet sixteen
The shades and textures, darling
Before she died somewhere in the abysmal burrow
There's no such thing as sorrow,
None, my adulation, none of it
If it was kept, it was forgotten
And the motion carried the remains of it
Somewhere, beyond a horizon
Perhaps, I might never know
But if the winds could visit me again
And I smell the air of nostalgia
Here, underneath my blanket the blue screen,
I browse, to remember a stomach flutter
Sweet sixteen butterflies and her kilig
All coming back,
About to be encapsulated
Only in her courtesy
And I, her faithful messenger
