Manners of a Storm

December 8, 2014 § 1 Comment

A slur of rain falls coyly by my window.
With a velocity of a snail,
two droplets meet to form a vesicle,
full of miracles.

And down they slither
as if towards the groin
to end in quiet splish,
a memorable sound.

Yet the weather gains speed,
the droplets in abundance
their collisions too permissive.
Their sounds too indistinct,

Too many,
a beauty, unlauded.


Sa Pagtili ng Gulong

January 17, 2014 § Leave a comment

Balak pa niya akong halikan,
ngunit siya’y naupo sa likod
ng manibela, at ako sa likod
ng kanyang kinauupuan.

Hindi naman maaring
bigla siyang tatabi sa akin,
at itigil ang pagtakbo.

Sa gitna nga naman 
kami ng daan,
at maraming pang iba’y 
maaring masaktan 
sa aming panandaliang

Slacks: matte, sleek, straight-cut

January 12, 2014 § Leave a comment

Crisp white shirt.
Slacks: matte, sleek,
It falls impeccably at the right
inch of your similarly
immaculate dress shoes.
Then, one wonders,
if your socks complement
the shade of gray of your bag,
my polycythemic heart
to that of your underwear.

Do not get me wrong. 
One cannot predict its color
by merely distinguishing
the bulking cloth against 
your slacks: matte, sleek,
The intuition merely tells me 
so. The intuition, unnatural
to my sex.


January 8, 2014 § Leave a comment

I’d ask for your hand if you had one. 
One that would actually play with 
the short hairs on my arms, 
possibly the curly ones 
thinly scattered on my groin.
But there are no hands
that are entirely mine.
None at all. 

For all we know, 
the hands are for something else,
their touch for someone’s hands
far different from the frost
of my own.

Full but Empty

November 1, 2012 § Leave a comment

While the moon is up,
like a giant penny,
I thought I missed you
knowing it’s a 50/50
you’re looking at her
the same way I am.

We love moons.

Only them,
not each other.

Nightmare Nymph

October 28, 2012 § Leave a comment

Swimming in my mug
was a ruddy girl in nude
wrapped in muddy, swamp-ish brown,
that assuming she was white
she dipped herself in delight,
in Brazilian coffee to drown.

Such entertainments arose—
nightmare nymphs in coffees—
as I write my prose.


October 25, 2012 § Leave a comment

Wedge between the lobes.
Tear your garments, unclad your robes.
Undress. See beneath the flesh,
the hands that toy your breasts.
Pen upon your navel,
draw me some,
draw me more,
draw me words,
words cut like swords.
Feel the thought, death by train.
Undress. Orgasms in my brain.