Rain like silver threads,
sweeps everything into silence.
Zinc roofs seem to be ripping apart
and the stench of the dogs is illuminated by their dampness.
Flies hovering around
twirling,
wherever my eyes are set.
Frogs are singing along with the raindrops,
raindrops are drumming the leaves of the takip-kuhol.
I watch the children
playing,
running beneath the white curtain of white veil
hanging on a clothesline.
I am purged by the cold air,
as water finds its way into my mouth.
I expect it to be bitter,
a numbing taste that leaves my gums stunned.
It is salty, impure.
In isolation,
I am crumpling into madness.
Wait.
I should save these tears for my grudge.
—-
RaJasper Nikki de la Cruz is a senior writing student at UP Mindanao.