Things I remember
are confined in love…

Sunset drives in the golden hour, 
Kiyoko and Anuar on the radio, 
through eddying hills of Kota Batu. 
We must have gone through three of my cars in the last decade 
journeying through everything together 
the tresses of your long, soft hair whipping out of the open window— 

you dreamt persistently in Sarawakian. 

Things I remember
are confined in love.

0 degrees Celsius, a Mediterranean bed,
you argued for Venezuelans rights at Leonard’s House of Love,
while I only ever asked for Italian sausages from ALDI in the morning.
Fingering callouses of your palm
from climbing walls,
and pouring milk and honey in our tea.
Indian spices everywhere
strange, for a house full of Europeans—

Things I remember
are confined in love.

Curly afro locks that made everything else disappear,
an innocence that seemed to blaze through your eyes
verleidelik summer dress, coconut lotion
a sea of sunflowers, and the softest Afrikaans gurgle
negotiating Die Antwoord’s worth—
I still Fink You Freeky

Things I remember
are confined in love.

A single-bed
Entrecote oysters, one for you, four for me
strolling and dancing through Prahran
stroking acrylic paintings made by your mother
tap-dancing to John Mayer, stirring more cheese in pasta, correcting my main tumse pyar karthee hoon.

You showed me life,

and floods of tears
for the greatest love.

Things I remember
are confined in love.

A small bǎo bèi’s round nose,
ambient echoes, pedals
sunrise surf, salted conversations
never-ending poetry
and never-ending ifs.

Things I remember
truly are confined in love.

The Ulrik language, chewing English and gulyás
the most western orientation with the Sun 

Fish-head asam pedas in the pot, sand in my nostrils from the day’s surf, how his parents stirred in their own home in anxious silence 

I hear the expert shuffling of tarot cards, thinking of short, blonde spikes, and the most fairy-tale kiss, while she speaks of fairy-tale research  

I hear laughter, and feel life’s comfort pour from the tip of my toes, to the crinkling of my nose. I think of the toilet seat perched proud atop Jimmy Monkey’s, above a Chindian tuft of jet-black 

I am comforted so,

by my yous

.

Today

forgive me

and allow me stay confined, 

in these places I can’t seem to forget

and don’t ever want to forget,

forgive me while I bask in God’s great glory

of gifting me such beautiful love.

(Recent, rambling thoughts… edited May 8th, 2023)