Poetry by | March 26, 2017

At Riverrun our stream of words never run dry
We pedal bikes down empty mountain roads
That ends on a pavilion of rundown train cars
Just beside our wooden cabin
Have I told you
that while you slept, I had dreams of myself
buying a thousand ice cream cones for you?
We have been the best of friends
Now we’re nothing but lovers
Who draw ourselves against the other
Like a pendulum
And despite hours
And ourselves
We repeat
And again

Maica is a graduate of the Creative Writing Program of UP Mindanao