From the day it started the catchy carols was a sight of a rainbow eucalyptus, It grew water for the thirst of cold December, and in that path where I saw cupid's ember, we tell of the angel of love as the wit (A little metaphor for ma’am Donna). You, the women across my sitting with speaking stare was already living in my chest pocket.
As I guide my longhand, to calm and compose my words and actions, a motionless watcher afraid to mislay such beauty but not afraid to be lost in it. Envisaging how it would feel to live there forever in that moment - in awe of a peculiar stellar and the interstellar distance separating you from the ordinary.
Like the line of Robert frost in the “Rose Family” that speaks - you are one of a kind.
I write with red ink like a child learning to write, careful with every stroke. A weightless hand on a canvass Inspired by the frame of time of us, and like speaking my emotions to where you are maybe so far as 9 kilometers away, expecting you to feel which you won’t even if I scream (In the distance of you and me before we felt the need for each other). I somehow received your letters back. I would keep them behind secret walls on my skin which I would open in my dreams in the hope that our hands were moving together while I pretend not to notice the poise - the perfectly measured angles of your being.
With the butterflies I see through roof – hidden beauty in things and every beautiful thing, nothing follows after you. Your Words with patterns and smell of your fabric and husky voice of your new eye rising with the sun, I would not care to wait for a midnight sun or for the moon to pull the tide beside the stellar that lights my sky. My eyes listen and the sound plucks my heartstrings. My ears turn red in rebellious delight that would make me stare at pictures of you; it's scarcely worded those letters, rather I treat it like snippets of innuendo to understand the conditions of living in your chest pocket.
I wanted to carve on woods, to leave a mark in the mango tree of "kanlungan". to start navigating maps Like the ruins of Intramuros, Unafraid to be lost in your embrace, and to know depths of poems of the romance of Nicholas Sparks - to speak of those words with true depth of admiration. And thinking I would never again, to transcend my emotions for a great cause and will be my cause of greatness.
- You are my cause of greatness.
You said “If you could only keep me in your pocket you would”, I say there’s no place for me without it, I hope to be a folded piece that grows gray in you like how much I want to keep you. As much as hot chocolates are for rainy days and clouds are for the day, my presence is for you and it promises to stay.
I am so much certain in hoping that to talk with God about his plans for us is part of my rest, that I befriended fate for knowing you and my voice begs to let me care for you for as long as I can - that everything you do, you say and you give is sentimental and will be sentimental. I want what we have to grow and continue with relentless conviction and I’m not saying it and asking for it once, I will ask for the chance to be with you every day, I will be right for you and I will do everything to be what you deserve.