Tonight I feel like doing unusual things so I painted a glass of water beside a pale blue ocean. The goldfish from within the glass is smiling at me.
The clouds covering the moon seems a bit dizzy. And the wind smells so sweet as if it's whispering someone's name into my ears.
I don't write your name. I address you as my 'sunshine' not only because you light up my days but also for- in my make-believe world
I'm the sunflower and all I need to survive is 'your' presence.
In the letter, I tell the stars how the sparkle of your eyes give a tough competition to them,
especially when you come across your favourite flowers or freshly baked cupcakes or a cup of coffee especially espresso and sometimes, me; reading out your favourite nazm.
I tell them how contagious your laugh is. When you laugh unapologetically it seems as if rain pouring upon the sunburnt grass after a long scorching afternoon. And I wonder if you know how the flowers smile when you look at them.
I tell the stars how badly I wish you were here, just beside me, looking at the sky and once again comparing my eyes to the moon and the locks of my hair to the dizzy dark clouds and teasing my immediate flushy cheeks.
I wish, at this very moment, somewhere you're also looking at the stars, talking about us.
Thinking how it was so good to be true
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