Wednesday, July 23, 2008

i think i'm coming down with something.

[23VII08]

the sick is in my nose,
behind my eyes

and inside my throat
there is a desert

that neither swallowed saliva
nor drunk water can touch.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

sometimes a sentence wakes me up.

[16VII08]

your back is a canvas
painted with the sweat
of my palm

Monday, July 14, 2008

--

[11VII08]

i miss talking with you
my flesh does not crave
but my mind lusts after you

meet me in the dark
we will be two voices --
no-bodies --
just two minds
in a sweatless,
smell-less night

there were other things to look at, but...

on the boat from caramoan island
[03VII08]

underneath the history of the universe written in braille
a boat writes its present in indigo ink
and punctuates its journey with twinkling periods of light

30-seconders

blue eyes
[06VI08]

i understood the cliche
of getting lost in another's eyes
when i looked straight at those blue orbs,
a radial arrangement of azure prominences
surrounding a stare

(comment: blue eyes is a wordy piece of crap)
___
white lady in the MRT
[26VI08]

all angles and frowns
asymmetric bangs and cocked eyebrow
legs crossed
white girl
in a sea of brown

(i would have followed her
but she got off at the wrong station)
llmarcelo [at] gmail [dot] com