deep sepulcher and shallow pavement.
a sharp exchange of glances,
and then like snow-bed,
gone at first feverish light — all!
in me, the world is still,
(you are my
world)
growing roots, a throb of petals.
you bequeath me, a necklace of hands.
railway of stars, like the white
of your silence and mine,
inaudible stone of our
ever growing distance.
scraps of metal archipelagic
in Manila and the immaterial
language of billboards:
my mind, the crepuscular garden,
your memory,
the overgrowth,
never plucked — stilled, unfazed,
your slenderness a sign of
eternity: lignified.
For M.