you're the sky that i'll never reach

the moon whom i adore

the soft wind which makes me feel good

but you're the colored butterfly

that I can't catch...

 

you're the sun that melts my heart

the deep sea i long to explore

the crystal glass that was broken

and wounded my hand...

 

you're the rain that makes me blue

the thunder that prompts me to hide

the lightning that strikes my mind

the candle that burns me up inside

 

but you're the musician

i might never fully know

for you are as silent

as a guitar i can't beautifully strum,

the song i cannot memorize

the poem i can't finish writing

 

 

 

you are the sonnet

on a dusty paper --

stored on my rusty bin of letters

forever there --

but which i don't want to frequently re-open...

 

you are the subject

of this  art: crying....

you are the valve

of this mechanism: heart...

you are this body's never-ceasing

companion: shadow

 

you are the reason

i can't stop this poem

you are the million things

i see, hear, feel --

the pollutants that i breathe...

 

i wish one day

you'll be the good massage

i always want to receive

the aroma of coffee

 

that wakes me up in the morning

the bathrobe that i wear

before and after shower

my favorite sleeping pyjamas

i put on at night

and the other hand that i fold

in prayer....

 

- Puwing Manalo