BY JESSIE ISAIAH RAYMUNDO
ILLUSTRATION BY PERRY GIL MALLARI
When you look at the naked
sky, legs crossed, an arm covering
an eye, the inevitable charms
fated nudity in disguise. I shift
my lens to opposite directions
but, to no avail, it always returns,
in black and white focus,
like boats propelled by oars, to you.
You never leave a gaze unfixed
on its subject. If there’s anything,
you say, your childhood piano lessons
have taught you, it’s how to manipulate
distorted arpeggios with your fingers.
An instrument only insists heirlooms
be consumed by flames; a love too much
like ours. In this city, weeks breathe
innermost thoughts we never wanted
to admit, regular passengers complain
on rotten trains, killings are normalized
like forgotten names, gazes are given
unreturned. Finally, a lover demands:
listen to the projection of my heart-
beat murmuring like rain.
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