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· Volume V Issue I

When I’m by the seashore, I can still hear you,

Your voice amidst the sound of the crashing waves.

Though by now I am miles away from you,

The singular thought of you remains.


Your words fill my lungs with the oxygen I breathe,

You are the salty residue I taste on my tongue.

Yet as I’ve chosen concrete walls, you bid me bitter adieus,

You send me ricocheting back to the shore.


Here they speak as pristine as surface water,

Their aquamarine glimmers from dusk until dawn.

Yet their brilliant aquamarine has become stultifying to my tongue,

It made me desire your sedimentary love.


I scorned you for being an amalgamation of rocks,

I seethed the way your sea glass and shells pricked at my feet.

I compared your complexity to the grains of sand on the shore,

I renounced your salty kiss before you could reject me.


How foolish am I to have lost your love,

The pearls I seek from the Orient come from sedimentary rocks.

My reflection is transpicuous in this mirror I worship,

yet it procured an ultimate cost.


Your rocks bring me stories of distant times,

Of family, of friends, of people I have formerly come across.

Your tides bring back tales of strength, love, hardship, and hope,

From that distant Philippine shore, I once walked on.


And so I lie on the shore resting on calmer tides,

soon I’ll have to rise and meet my mute walls.

The mirror on my feet may not get any cleaner,

But this mirror is something I call home.