Moonlight Ardor

– Juman Kevin Tindo

I call it a four-minute kind of bliss. An experience where you have just the right time to bail when you get cold feet and to embrace the fact that a genesis will not happen even when you are serenaded by a sorry.

I like this experience for it is underlined by sheer joy despite its bitter after-effects. It is true that it is hard to find that spark when you are an underdog because you are always pulled back at the starting point. It even becomes more painful when you are at the belly of desperation and you get just satisfied with scraps of kindness.


Nonetheless, your moonlight ardor gave heat which glimpsed my icy and hard skin. It is a glamorous silver light waking the tides inside me to rise, and then fall. The black shadows of longing were partly eclipsed by this silver spectrum.

But similar to those moments looped by the ever-cruel spinners of destiny, I am choosing to regress. Believe me when I say that I do not want anything in return for that short-lived happiness. I am perfectly fine expecting nothing and mistaking that moment as love.

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