The urban lassitude of a storm,
I woke.
And behind the blinds
I saw a corrugated moon, its rays
Slinking
Through the slenderness
Of slits,
Rushing towards me.
And so it was that moonlight sat
On edge
Of my palm
And whispered your name,
Its lunar legs limp and luminous,
Its miniature mouth
Hymning
Oracular psalms of swans
At daybreak,
Suns at midday,
Porcelain dolls sashaying
To the rhythm
Of a puppeteer's
Heartbeat
In the expanse of midnight.
On strange evenings
Such as this,
I can almost see eagles taking flight,
Apple trees on the pavements
Of Katipunan, snow falling
On Quiapo's tenement roofs
That shelter couples
Making love
While music seeps from a stereo
Like some intangible snake,
Like blood from a wound
That never closes,
Like you escaping
Into the wilderness of dreams.
« return.