Poetry by | May 6, 2018

as the afternoon breeze

gently brushes the reflection

of the early moon on

the surface of this puddle

as it distorts the image

which is the face you make

as you held your breath

when you came

as we made love

in the yellows and oranges

golds and silver linings

painted the treads

as you slowly crawl

out of bed with the sun

you finish this affair

almost eagerly by yourself

Be still, katingon.

Rory Ian Bualan is a physics teacher at Nazarbayev Intellectual School in Petropavlovsk, Kazakhstan. He is from Mati, Davao Oriental.

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