Not even our fondness for each other

Poetry by | September 27, 2009

You were once grass leaves
along the cliff
spread around the rock
where the two of us leaned

You heard our giggles
when in secret
we mocked the moon’s
rough and bumpy face

You also heard
the popping sound of the breeze
as it pushed our bodies closer
to each other

Some of you bent lower
as the two of us
brandished our bare feet
towards the trembling sea
that tries to mirror

the restless stars above it

You were witnesses of our pride
as our gestures showed
that we think nothing so perfect
but our fondness for each other

Not the coarse-faced moon
Not the noisy breeze
Not the fretful sea
Not even the twinkling stars
that appear hesitant to shine still

Nothing else so perfect
but our fondness for each other

And now
you are made into a paper
with all your loyal fibers
holding on together

You remained witnesses
of our pride
when in secret
each of us crumpled

a piece of you
to be softened like a cloth
that would wipe our tears

Each of us crumpled you
to soften the written letters
that composed that word

You remained witnesses of our pride
as we walked towards
the opposite poles
pretending not to realize
that nothing really is perfect

Not even our fondness for each other

—-
Paul Randy P. Gumanao is a sophomore taking up BS Chem at Ateneo de Davao University.

6 thoughts on “Not even our fondness for each other”

  1. It’s addressed to trees!

    I think the piece is very timely, with the Ondoy disaster being blamed on the lack of trees. I also like the way you mock the conceit of humanity here. great work, Paul!

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