SPARK

Image courtesy of Sira Anamwong at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

You spoke of the spark 

that you feared I was repulsed by the night after we met.

Au contraire – 

I felt that spark a long time ago.

I recognized it again when my gaze fell upon your face – 

a sight that I longed for since I lost you

23 years ago.

The familiar butterflies fluttered,

a palette of colors splashed across my world,

my cheeks suffused with bright red hue. 
You spoke of the spark that you feared I was repulsed by.

I denied its existence then

manacled by the society’s rules

restrained by age and naivety, and

cowered by trepidation.

Would you laugh? Run away? Shun me?

You went your way

and I went mine, yet you never left my mind.

Your full, baritonal voice filled my ears;

your strong ghostly presence

eclipsed others;

the word ‘panache’ never failed

to trigger a glimpse of you.

You were, after all,

 a wordsmith among a sea

of Philistines.
Now, our paths have crossed, and

you spoke of the spark 

that you feared I was repulsed by the night after.

Emotions are roiling – Aku akan merindukan,

Aku merindukan – with the imminent separation.

The fear is there, but not of the spark.

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