some truths
you cannot
squeeze out
of someone —
they've got to
let you in on
the secret

it finally
RAINED in MANILA

the thunderclaps were orchestral
the water splats — a van Gogh
on bus windows
against red tail lights

and people held their breaths
as the first drops of relief
hit their skins — a lover's kiss
at the end of a long day

the KISS
SWEET like CHERRIES
long before you knew
how they tasted

LONG like the LINES I TRACE
with my FINGERS
in the small of your back

WARM like your BREATH
on my NECK
just before you wake up

just                                     
before                  
we
                do it
                                  again

do I long for things I don't hold
or is it fate that I don't find 'em
exactly because I long for 'em
                                                             ?