Toska

Moon gazing was one of the sweetest, rarest moments I’ve ever had.

Just after a long term of toska.

Slow and painful, but yet, pleasurable toska.

Leaning back on a bench on which firm but yet, soft muscles my head rested upon,

I gazed at the blue moon.

Once in a blue moon, A full moon.

Clouds would pass by,

Covering the moon from my sight.

And like the warm air that surrounds me,

Envelope it in an embrace.

The warmth of the embrace, sweet and meaningful.

The voice of the winds blowing, back and forth.

Bringing the sounds of playful, naughty laughter and conversations to life.

Now, echoing in my ears…

The leaves that fell from the branches of its tree,

Caress my skin, at the same time,

Tickling me with its rough edges.

Like lullaby, soothing me of my trauma and fears of being a nuisance in this world.

the leaves had a life of its own, dancing.

It danced on my rested body as i gazed at the moon.

It was late, and as time pass, ticking,

I enjoy the moment.

After midnight.

The moon shining bright. 

My toska remedy.

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