PhilosEros

On top of metal peaks I look out

Into the blank clear sky blotted with

Seminal ink floating fluidly



Like words dancing in papyri skin

Telling ancient verses, of tragedies

Of a long forgotten past.



There before me is a wide canvas

Of blue hue containing many “you”s

Which were painted by the hand of



My Soul,



But were no more.



I look out in from this metallic tower

Of glass and pipes, looking over the

Manila Skyline of littered of smog;



Pollutants that clogs my chest w/

The memories of “you”s and “we”s

That faded in the blowing of the



South Chinese wind over

The metro where the “you”s are

All scattered along w/ the



Thousand and 1 pieces of my soul.



Here in this skyline of Buendia

And Zobel de Ayala, I seat like a

Monk, alone and in silence



Looking out to God,

In the blue hue of “you”s

Pouring out my empty shell



Of scattered dreams

And loves.