slender

You half-expected
her to run.

It is midnight,
after all:
the clanging of the bell,
the prophecy of the tale,
could have turned
jeepneys she ride
into pumpkins.
Her entourage
into a zoo.

She is an Unexpected,
you’ve accepted that.
You’ve come to terms
with her not being one
of your delusions, not
another faerie trick,
the moment she stuck
around past sanctioned time
of having to be
together.

But she makes you
want to believe in
a little magic.
You kind of hoped
for the witching hour
to affect her somehow,
to leave you a glass
slipper that sets you
on her trail,
on a quest to find her
outside sanctioned places
to meet in,
to try, try, try,
to win her,
somehow.




Then you discover
it is you
being undone.
Your shields
dissolve like
leaves in the wind.
Your worlds
disperse like
sand emigrating.
Losing yourself to days
molding into morrows.

Still she makes you
yearn to believe:
that there’s a glass
apparel to leave
in your wake,
a trail for her to take.
And you try, try, try,
to hold on
to that slender hope,
that impossible slope,
that somehow,
somehow,
she likes you, too.



2015.mar.18

stacks

are we done placing
inches between us?
our meager attempt at evading
consequences of locking
eyes too long, the fear
of falling within few chance
brushes of fingertips,
the wayward scents and sounds
of one trespassing
on the other’s senses.

we’ve begun placing
time onto the distance.
stacking up seconds like playing
pawns and royalty over checkered
boards we play on, venue
of a platonic dalliance meandering
in a masquerade, gambling on charade
to wed with hours and tone down
passion to fondness.

are we ants building
a sea wall of crumbs
in the face of an ocean bent
on realizing our ruin, against
an implacable desire dwarfing
our reluctance? we've begun
covering the inches leading
to two roads diverging,
each cluttered with its own flavor
of loneliness



2015.mar.12

gems

I came to work that day to find they determined
I’m made of sapphires, like many of my co-workers.
There were also ones made of emeralds, aquamarines,
a couple made of fire opals, and one made of rubies.
I wanted to say, “Yes, I’ve known for ages that I
am made of sapphires, but can I be made of emeralds
instead as that’s my birthstone?” But someone else
beat me to it, big nice dude wanted to be big bad dude
and made of rubies, not sapphires. They proceeded
to shred his defense, through witness after witness,
through exhibits A through Z, reducing his erstwhile
spirited complaints down to whimpers, proving him
beyond a doubt made of sapphires, so I kept quiet.
I instead started to think of legal means to break
into a house somewhere in central United States, one
that’s prone to be carried away by a tornado and
slammed right onto a flattened, evil, unsuspecting
witch in a faraway magical land where I could bump
into a trio of odd fellow travelers who would happen
to harbor similar longings like mine and would gladly
walk with me to where a wizard is ensconced because
said wizard would grant wishes and I meant to ask
him to turn me into being made of emeralds instead
of sapphires, I meant to ask him to swap my heart
with a second brain and it would be better that way
because all these emotions for you are starting to
take their toll and get in the way of thinking
logically. But we all know there are no true wizards,
only poets and their blurry lines between truths
and lies. I contented myself with absent-mindedly
clicking my heels together and listened to
the clinking of loose sapphires in my feet.



2015.mar.06

the fortress

There is nothing left to say that can safely be laid out under the scrutiny of the public eye. I have exhausted all my means of crafting the message I needed to find you. If chance allowed for the words to reach you, for the words to touch you in the way they were meant to, then I am glad. If not, then you are the star whose attention I was never meant to bask in, locked in your stronghold. And if you are, I only hope that once in an age of peace, in need of fresh air you'd open the gate of your walls. And if you do, may you look around the battlefield that surrounds you, among the tattered banners of those who besieged you. And among the debris may you discover pieces of how much you meant to me, from a time long lost, and that will suffice.


2015.feb.27