little pomegranate hearts

by Calista Dirdja

I want to fall in love again
making my heart red as the pomegranates.
I want to romanticize it all,
plotting my own fantasy.

A flock of swallows on the meadows.
I play pastime’s core memories
like a song sung by nightingales.
At times like this,
I miss my heart-beating pals,
plucking strings and playing cards till dawn.

Truth or dare?
I’ve been longing and retaining
my feelings for so long.
The truth is,
I’ve been in exile
now, let me get out of it.
Loneliness is not my friend;
solitude is.
As much as I love quiet,
it’s time for another bliss.
To dare is I am set for love –
as crazy as charmingly being
sentimentally in love again
collecting memories in a jar of
little pomegranate hearts.