like lost puzzle pieces.

One of the strings of letters I feared to tell you was the mask I placed on my bored face whenever you played my skin as if they were made of the stars in the night sky. Sometimes, I still asked myself why I gripped on this dread when I could just throw you away... Continue Reading →

broken bottles.

The Giant is the closest supermarket to my apartment. I go there in the broad daylight together with the pensioned elders shopping for one unnecessary item to talk to the cashiers about their ongoing life gossips. I grab four bottles of wine before I swipe the rest, and they crash on the floor. The commotion... Continue Reading →


I cut my finger as I chop the onions. Maria hurries to my side and sees the blood. I ask her not to worry. She bites her lower lip, and seats. I want to cook the dinner for our date. I read earlier my grandmother’s spell book and my blood was the cherry for the... Continue Reading →

closed for the summer.

I shop at her convenience store every day. It is two blocks away from my apartment in this ghost street. When the bell rings and she sees me, her lips twitch. I look at every product I already memorized along with its price to kill time and stay. In the counter, I get discounts. My... Continue Reading →

the book to walk (away, take note).

She breathes the words of that book about the sea and its wind. The way the writer describes the tranquility of the sea and its storms underneath, plus let us not forget about the monsters, make her heart desire to wander around and search for her own. One day, she leaves me and becomes a... Continue Reading →

the river’s presence.

I wish I have a pair of lips as soothing as the water that flows in your favorite river—that it may build the letters you need to hear to calm your heart. But within these tangled feathers of your dreamcatcher, I get caught and the two of us just become lost. The rain outside taps... Continue Reading →

the lust in thoughts.

The flashes of the strobe lights hid the true form of your face. I could only see the lines of your jaw, the drop of your pointed nose, the plump of your lips, the long eyelashes you have, and the loss look of your left eye. In the sea of people, it was your distant... Continue Reading →

ghost eyes.

Rose rests her head on my shoulder, taking a break from her murder. Her sister’s lifeless body lies before our feet. Her pool of blood reaches the soles of my shoes and I can’t believe I’m seeing my dead fiancé. Rose plucks out a cigarette stick and lights it. “Her wedding dress might not fit... Continue Reading →

out of words

The green field, just below the rocky mountain we climbed for two days, was wet, but not muddy. The rain had started as soon as we dropped our bags and tents beside a tree. While I was shielding my glasses from the rain, you ran to the mellow touches of the grasses, spreading your arms... Continue Reading →

the light tones.

One of the reasons I embrace the summer air is the love it exudes at the time of its sunset. The drools of the orange flames caressing my splintered skin with its silk-like heat, but never burning me to death—like you do. I watch you dip your paintbrush, used and barely wet, in the palette... Continue Reading →

wars and stars.

I’m counting the stars from the floor of the dark forest. Without a tent, but with a campfire, I cloud each light with my finger, constructing my own constellation through my ghost touches. Beside my ear, I can hear your stable breathing. I gaze at your shut eyes and the slit of your lips, and... Continue Reading →

sea in a cup of tea.

Before you leave, I have to remind you to drink the coffee I prepared for you. To check if you have your car keys with you. To iron the folds and creases of your blouse with your palm. Before you close that door, you send me a warm gratitude without the brush of your lips... Continue Reading →

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