Connotes always to this: the smell of mangoes in December / the taste of candycane in my mouth / the solitude of being unbothered, peace & spacious of vast room for the self to explore without being interrupted but also this repetition of despair / alone, for the third year of being too celibate to allow anyone else in / alone, how it encompasses my every move / meal for one / a movie for one, a bed big enough to fit one body & a feeling in one’s own company / alone, it echoes in & out my marrow & even seeping into the intricate part of my heart’s vein / alone, to tell myself a story that someday I won’t be / but what an aloneness of thoughts that has been ruminating over & over every year / I cannot stand the smell of fake pine trees / & I wish to have one white Christmas somewhere / maybe being kissed under the mistletoe / maybe I ask too much, maybe I am too much / I let myself lay vulnerably like a piece of mantle / watching my own life dissipates aggressively / I am alone, disintegrating slowly while the rest are in someplace where companies scattered from one corner of the room to another / alone, alone & alone again, again & again where another age is about to shut its door on me / alone, where nothing but to master such an aching sensation of grief / of always being the first to call, the first to break the ice, the first to respond, the first to reach out, the first to forgive, the first to give yet always the last or not even on the list of call, not worth to break the ice for, last to respond to, last to reach out to or only when needed, last to even be forgiven & last to give to / yet alone, again & still I have yet had the ability to look the other way or to be one who only takes without giving in return / alone, it reverberates like a sound in my soul’s throat that asked me of the impossible, asked me of a continuous of faith & believe that year after another had failed me / alone, how I seek with blood splattered from the repression of my own foolish heart / alone, in the tick of dawn & tock of dusk / alone, such a lonely word that’s cherished but also despised / alone, such a word that is treasured but also abhorred / alone, such a word that is useful for mindfulness but also useless once mindfulness is achieved & all you have is the expansive goodness in you that is shareable yet is tethered to that aloneness of being alone & unsharable —

© D C de Oliveira
December 25 2020
Friday 2.11pm
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