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Executive Staff Editor in Chief: Alisha Lekh Associate Editor(s): Caitlyn Chui, Deeksha Holla Graphic Designer: Caitlyn Chui Webmaster: Chris Janania Treasurer: Sreeja Pavuluri
TableofContents: Editor’s Note:CaitlynChuiI. WhenRainBringsButterfliesbyTaraLacey…………………………………………..6 II. LunchinCantabriabyElizaRosenthale………………………………………………..9 III. naturewalkbyerinchang………………………………………………………………10 IV. agrapefruitbyerinchang………………………………………………………………10 V. adreambyerinchang…………………………………………………………………..11 VI. TheMonthofMarchbySarahMalik…………………………………………………..12 VII. FromtheWindowattheEndoftheHallbyTomasRusso…………………………….13 VIII. SquareBreathingbyJaneMcGrath…………………………………………………….15 IX. SoBelowbyJaneMcGrath……………………………………………………………15 X. SeasonsEchobyJaneMcGrath……………………………………………………….17 XI. 21byDeekshaHolla…………………………………………………………………..18 XII. BonesbyMedhaSatti………………………………………………………………….19 XIII. UntitledbyMedhaSatti………………………………………………………………..19 XIV ALamentofLovebyChanaFisher……………………………………………………19 XV GoldbyCaitlynChui…………………………………………………………………..20 XVI. SentinelbyDeekshaHolla……………………………………………………………..21 XVII. SanamaulitmulibyChristineR.Carvajal……………………………………………..22 XVIII. TheyShallNoLongerSojournHerebyAllisonGellerstein…………………………..23
Thisyear,therehasbeenadeclineseeninthenumberofsubmissionsandmembersinattendance oftheAnthologist;andunderstandably,thereiscause.Aswecontinuallytrytoseekany semblanceofnormality,thelastthingonmanypeople’s-neverthelesscollegestudents-mindsis toundothathard-worneffortbydoingsomethingadventurousandexperimental.ButI,andon behalfoftheAnthologist,encourageanyandeverypersonwhohasastorytheywanttoshareto comeforthandpresentittotheunknowingaudienceandthewelcomingfuture.Takeyourfirst stepsintotheopenspace,andmeeteveryoneelsewhoisemergingjustasyouare.
Thisprojectcouldnothavebeendonealone:Iwouldalsoliketogiveaheartfeltappreciationto allwritersandeditorswhocametogethertomakethiswonderfulissueof the Anthologist -Caitlynpossible.Chui
Acardrivinginreverseisn’tacommonsight,butitsurefeelslikewe’vebeendrivingthatway forquiteawhile.Wehavelivedalargemajorityofourpastmonthswatchingourlivesinthe rearviewmirror,asourpreviouscircumstancesandpreviousstateofourliveshavedictatedhow weliveourlivesrightnow.Andaswehavelivedalongtimeinthepast,theinvisibleand long-timesituationsloomingoveruslikeblackenedshadows,we’verevertedtoinfancy, strugglingtotakeourfirstwaddlesbackintothelight.But,ifthereisanythingthatthe Anthologisthastaughtmeandallmembersoftheorganization,itistoliveinthemomentandto lookforward:newstories,newideas,andnewsentimentsarealwaysburstingforthattheseam, andwemusttakeourfirststepsforwardtomeettheseideashead-on.HarperLeeoncesaidtosit downwithfulleffortandtransformgoodideasintogemsofideas.Andtodothat,wecannotlet thepastgrapplewithus,orourdoubts,butinsteadfacethefutureandlettheseideasblossom intotheunknowntimesthatweshouldfullyembrace.Ifwecanlearnfromthepasttobrighten ourfutures,ourideasandstorieswillgrowevenmore.Andtodoso,totakethatfirststep,we mustalsobebraveenoughtoletothershearourvoice.
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WhenRainBringsButterflies MymotherandIlovewalkingthroughouroldneighborhood,butonlyonrainy days.We don’tacknowledgethatthesunstillshinestherewithoutus.Wetrudgethrough thepuddles, umbrellaoverourheads,lookingdownatasidewalkthatisbothforeign andfamiliarThecedarswinginmyneighbor’sbackyardstillswingsthesamewayafterhis death.I rememberlongsummerafternoonsunderhisgazebo,ourneighborhoodfriends gathered underneath.HewouldspinthelazySusanjustalittletoofastandusyoung oneswouldstart laughing.Thesmellofawinecorkmixedwithwarmpine.Flies overwhelmedabowlofsangria; freshsaladlaidinItalianlemondinnerware.Loriwould bringafreshlybakedstrawberryrhubarb piemadeatthefruit’sripesthour.Itsscentwas heldlovinglyinthesummerair Theyoungestof uswouldpaintbutterfliesonourfaces withfadedpaintandthenourmotherswouldscoldusfor makingamesswiththeglitter. Iwatchedantscarryleaveslikedeterminedsoldiers.Whenthe kittenswouldmeow,my neighbor’swifeElliewouldgiveinandfeedthemunderthetable.I halflistenedto conversationsIhalfunderstood.Themuddledchimeofthehouse’sgrandfather clock soundedeverysooften.ThoughittoldmetimewaspassingIneverrealizedthatitwas. SometimesIlookedouttotheirgarden,groundedonlybytheclinkingofdinnerwareand the passingofplates.Fairieswererealthen,andIlookedfortheminthetrees.Even whenIdidn’t findthem,IknewIhadmywholelifetoo.SomeonewouldtellmeIwas daydreaming,andI’d alwaysturnbacktofacethem,smiling.
Itookonelastlookatmyneighbor’shousethroughabluehazeofrain.Icouldbe anyone now;noonewouldeverknowthatIoncehadaplacethere.Itwasstrangeto realizethatmyown perceptionofthisneighborhoodwaspreservedonlyinmymind;the peoplewhomadeitspecial weregone.Iwassoclosetolookingaway.ThenIsawmy neighbor Themanwhotooktheone andonlyphotoofmymotherduringherpregnancy, insistingshewillcherishitoneday.The manwhorecitedShakespeareateverydinner withequalenthusiasm,becausehewantedusto sharehisloveoflanguage.Theman whogavemymotherthearticle“Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus,”urgingherto sharethemagicofChristmaswithme.Themanwhobelievedin magichimself.Iheard himlaughinginthatwayonlyalifeofwisdomandjoycanfoster. Enthralledbythe paperIhandedhim.AskingmewhereIlearnedthisstuff.Urgingmetowrite more poetry.ItoldhimthatIdid.ItoldhimIwishIdidn’tgrowupwithouthim.ItoldhimI missedthosesummerdaysunderthegazebo.ItoldhimIwishIhadlistenedtothe grandfather clockmoreclosely. Ourrainbootssloshedaswestoppedinfrontofouroldhome.Thehousewasso much smaller thanIremember,yetsomehowmoreintimidating.Mygazetraveledto ourbackyard.Mythirdbirthday,Iwaswearingaspringgreendresswithalargesequin butterflyacrossthefront.Theskirtwasalightweighttullewithtinierbutterfliesallover it.Itwasmyfavoritedress becauseIcouldruninitfreely.Thesunshonewiththe promiseofanearlySeptemberday.In themomentsprecedingtheeggandspoonraceI heldmyspoonoutinfrontofmecautiously. Somebodysaidgoandwestumbled towardsthefinishline,ignoringthe“dangit’s!”ofour fallencompetitors.Idon’t rememberifIdroppedmyegg.Iwatchedaheapofplasticriseintoa greatbluecastle,
generatingmanyoohsandaahsfromthecrowd.MyfriendsandIjumpedaroundinthe bouncehouseuntilourkneesgaveoutandwecollapsedwithlaughter.Mydad heldme upwhiletheguestssang“HappyBirthday.”Wewerebothsmiling.Istillhavethat picture.IgotaSpongeBobthemedcakebecausemymomdidn’tbelieveinthemyththat it caused“poorexecutivefunction.”IleanedinandstaredatthefondantPatrickbefore closingmy eyesandmakingawish.Idon’trememberwhatthewishwas. Iswitchedhandswithmyumbrellaandtookmyfocusfromthebackyard.Acrossthe frontlawnandtotheleftisabigwaterbasin,alsoknownasmychildhoodsledding place.I rememberitcoveredinsnow,mymomandIscrapingoursaucersledsacrossthe sidewalk. TherewasmyPomeranian,Kiki,boundingthroughthewhitenesslikea natural.Hercinnamon furwasstrikingagainstthebackdropofthesnow.Shewaskind andintelligentandawhiz aroundchildren.Shewouldalwaysmakeitbacktothetopof thehillbeforemeandwaitthere patiently.Irememberamblinginherfootsteps,fighting theheavinessofmyskipants.Black crowssearedthroughthedeepblueskywith purpose.Sunshineilluminatedwhitelikeglitter. Snowfallhushedtheworldwithquiet. Theaironthosedayswassimilartotheairtoday,cold anddampwithatwingeofblue. AndthenIsawher.Shewasrightunderthewatertower, stompinginthepuddles.Her hairwaslongandbrown,andittangledwithitselfinthebitter wind.Shewasyoung,no morethanfiveorsix.Atfirst,Iwonderedwhatshewasdoingonmy hill;Ireminded myselfitwasnolongermine.Shebentdowntodepositalostworminthegrass. Istared athercuriously,forIalwaysdidthesame.Isawfadedpaintonthesideofherfaceinthe shapeofabutterfly.Shewasmumblingsomething;IthinkitwasShakespeare.Ihada feeling shelikedsummerafternoonsandstrawberryrhubarbpie.Iwascertainshehad
Lunch—-inCantabria Onthewaythere Wetalkwithourhandsandoureyes Inthebackseat Sohungrywearemanic Minivanswayingthroughbluemountains Somedizzyinglyclose Somesofartheylookliketissuepaper Inthelavendersky Themeal Isinatownmadeentirelyofancientstone Andtheyserveancientstew Beansandbloodsausage Seafoodinsourredbroth Clamshellsclankinginharmony Withourcoosof TOfDriftingNowMountainsTAllOnMuchosPapasSofterCinnamon-infusedgratitudeporklointhantheapplecompotefritassoakupsweetjuicesgracias,gracias,graciasthewayhomeheadsturnedoutwindowsryptophandreamsswellingintoskydeeppurpleofftothehumJackJohnson’sacousticguitarrustingthemountainstocarryushome
listenedtothegrandfatherclock.Iknewthatsomebodyouttherebelievedinher,long afterhewasgone.Itried tocatchher,butsheranawaytoofast.
naturewalk thesunshonehigh thatspringafternoon afterdaysofdrowninginrain leftusinasoft,wide-eyedhaze payattentiontothelight emphasizewithcolor wewalkthrough thepinetreeforest screaminginblackandwhite yetthewatersustainsme - askmeaboutmysafeplace atrailofbreadcrumbs thatyouleave inyourfootsteps withanimalholes inthe-groundamapyoucreateformebeforewesaygoodbye mechanicalbirdsmove throughthesky i’dliketoimagine thattheycanseeus wavingtothem justforamoment,let’sbestill andmaybeoneday,they’llcometoalanding agrapefruit peelingbackthelayersofagrapefruit itsskincrustingthefingertips Pinkfleshwithanacrylictexture layingacrossthesilverplatter inastateofnakedvulnerability
Breakingitsstructureintomultiplehalves ligamentscompletelydisjointed veinsscattered Flinchingattheslightesttouchanddisruption sensitivityatitsfinest shivering,crisscrossing,rearrangingthemselves Withineachmembrane surrenderitselftoanoutsider readytobedevoured Byatotalstranger adream agentlepullatmyheartawakensme andonceagain,iamremindedofyourabsencethe vernalfreshnessoftheair llsmybreathyetistill feelthewinterwindrunthroughmychesticry fromthisachingbitterness inanotherlife,twomortalsdancetothesameoverture ihearlovewithinthepulsingstringsoftheorchestra butyoucouldnothearanythingatall withahandwrappedaroundmychambers youcastyourblooduponmyheart tobebraveenoughalone withthecouragetomakeahome outofthisunforgivingworld creatingintimacywithastranger andhopinghewillunderstand asistandbesideyourgraveandweep ionlyrememberthekindnessioncesaw afriendineededattheheightofmyvulnerability ratherthananotherfelon'svacantcorpsethattheyburiedand evenasidream,idreamuntodeath
Howlovelyisittotakeafullbreathandbeableto How lovelyisittofeellikelivingoncemorewiththesunonmyface,theoccasionalbreezesentmywayfrom thecars
Thelightwasyellowandorangeandslightlygreenfromthehueofmycurtains,thegrassanodd shadebutatleastitwasn’tdeadandbrownandbarrenandsoterriblyhopeless
Thewinddecidedtotake alengthynaptodaysowhenIglancedoutsideastentativelyasonemustthesedays,naturewasnearly completelystillandsowasI
Theonlythingthatbeganmovingagainwasmyheart,revivedbythe massiveballoffireintheskyandthemoonthatwasstillhastilytryingtohideandtheinvisibleclouds andthecarsthatdrovebywiththewindowsdown
Thesweetscentofflowersandweedsrejuvenatedmeunlikeanycaffeinateddrink,mylungsnolonger frozen,nowexpandedintotheirfullcapacity
Fourmonthsofundergrounddarknessandsuffocatingmiseryofwillsheorwon’tshe.Now,it’scometo this:oneMarchmorning,birdsasloudastheirlittlethawedbodiesallowthemtobe,trafficonthe distantroad,andcoldreliefinmybody.
The Month of March BySarahMalik I. Howdreadfulit’sbeentorisewiththedarknesseachmorningforthelastseveralmonths,thecold seepingthroughthelargewindowofmyseverelyunkemptroom.HowlazyI’vebeen,toofrostbitten insideandouttopickupthelitteringclothesonmyfloor,theemptybottlesofwateronmyunuseddesk, andthebooksI’veyettoorganizeontothebookshelfonthefarcornerofmyroomthathasbecomemy closestfriendforyearsnow.Itshouldtakeallbutafewminutesofmytooshortdaystofixthestateof myroom,andyetwhenIlookaroundit,Irealizethereisnoamountofbriberythatcangetmetomakean effort. Likewise,thereisnoamountofbriberythatwillinspiremetocombmyhairandpassalintrollerovermy clothesandtuckmyshoesintotheclosetwheretheybelong Thereisnothingonecangivemetorise earlyformyclasses,riseearlyformycupofcoffee,riseearlytomakemydayslonger WhatcanIdo aboutthisnowat21whenIshouldhavemyselfputtogether?WhathaveIdoneaboutitforthepastten winters? Buttoday Today,thesunappearedwithoutcoverandthatputridwindowofminefinallyproveditself useful
II.
AhaterofrainI’vealwaysbeen,yetifthescentthatfillstheairfollowingastormmustcontain thisingredient,thensurelyIcanwithstandthisasIhavefor21years.
Ihearitnowandmyheartbeatsfastwithatypeofanxietythatcanonlybefixedwiththeappearanceof theyellowsunthatmakesmesquintandtearupwhenIadmireitfortoolong Iwon’tevenmindthefew whitecloudsthathidethesunfrommeforseveralseconds HowIdespisetherain HowIwishplants wouldthrivefromamoregentleloveandnotthisfrightening,barbariclove Thewindaddedtothe
Thewarmairrushedthroughthestrandsofmywashed,dried,andcombedhair
Therainhasreturned,andnotthepleasantkind.Itisthetypethatslapsviciouslyagainsttheroofand compelsmetothrowanotherblanketovermyheadlikeachildbecauseI feel likeachildwhenitrains. It’scustomarytosufferthroughthesharprainandunforgivingwindsbeforewecanberewardedwiththe ever lovinggentlebreezeofspring.It’satransition,theysay.It’scruel,Isay.
mixturewillsurelydrivethemaway.Flowersaremeanttobetreatedwithpeace,grasssoftlyruffled. Whatevercanbedoneaboutthisangryweatherbuttowithstandit? My cat hides underthetable Hertailistuckedwhilemyhandsrestovermyears,bothhabitsthatoccur with lightning because we know whatfollowsit Itellherit’llbealrightandIfeellikeaparentlyingto herchildtoavoidshowingherfears Wecannotletitbreakus,Itellher Icannotaffordtostopcombing myhairagain!Icannotaffordtoletthelaundrypileup!Icannotaffordtobehiddeninthatroomonce more!Thedarknessandrainandfearcannothavesuchagriponus! I’llridiculemyhysteriainthemorningwhenthesuncomesandlaughsatme Then,I’llimploreit toneverleavemeinthepresenceofrainandwindagain.Howcruelofajokethatwas. Marchisafrighteningmonth,I’mwellaware SufferingthroughitwillbringmehappinessandApril willbekindtome It’sabribeandatrick Imustbeburdenedtoberewarded FromtheWindowattheEndoftheHall Thiscannotbesopretty, Formemoryisnot; It’sjumbled,mixed,andblendedstrands Ofoncecoherentthought, Whichnowwithtimeandcontemplation TakeonsomenewformtofitthestoryIhave Structured Tomakesomesenseof… Parkinglotfullofcars That’sthefirstpart Itwasabigenoughlotstretchedfromthewindowandoutabout Isupposeinshortitwasasbigasyou’dexpect Ahospitallottobe AnditwassnowingseethatIdon’tknowifthat’srealityorjustafilter
Andnotjustlivebutthriveanddriveandallmysoulderiveitselffrom thoseoldwaysthosedazewhenchaosandmymind’smaliciousmazemy crazedneeds My Thatgreedneedtofeedandletthepainrecedetobleedfreeofthatdevil’sseed whichinmymindwouldbreeduntilIwouldconcedeandsayI’myou Andyouareme. Andweareone. We’llalwaysbe Sometimesstillinsolitudeitfeelswe’llalwaysbebecauseasmuchasI wanttobefreeI’mthee You’reme,We’reone,We’llalwaysbe. Newdays,newlife,perhapsitcanbereal… But
laidonbythemindtofindsomepoetryincolderlessconcisereality Whatwastherealitythen? Whocares?Whythinkonitnow Whenit’ssofargone Thenwhyinmymindmustitstill Liveon?
Square ChurningBreathingwhirlpoolinthehollow,shallowsourcethewhirlingthought holdtogether,batteredvessel,leaknotocean,blaze,orfire, graspittightlyandconstrainit,lettherootsbelaidoutstrong: fourbeatsinwards,fourtostill,fourmoretopouroutsquallandgale fourbeatsrestandcalmandsilence,letwindsmirrorwhat’sbelow tillthedrumreachesitsstandstill,tillthewatersclearoncemore wearythecrew’sarmsarenow,underskythat’sachingblue. Yetbeneaththeheavens’seam,stormsstilllingeroutofreach hiding,bidingtimeinnumberstochokewhat’slivingonthesea; sotillnexttimepointyourshipwell,steeritwithawatchfuleye. Althoughnottoowary,mindyou,lestyourcrewcrymutiny.
So Darkness,Belowonlydarknessunderground, Sustainyourselfoffroots,offdrinkingsap, Forgeononlyforthefaintmemoryoflight, Aboveyourburrowinggrounds,wherenowthetrees, Stretchtallenoughtobrushtheunderbellyofthesun,
inthosedarkestnightsit’syou Ifeel…
Itwassnowing,thetypeofsnowthat’sdarkbecausetheskyistoo,andinthedistance,across thelot-asbigasyou’dexpectahospitallottobe-satthisintersectionbeneaththeshadowof thecity’ssilhouette(someshops,acouplecars,afewstreetwalkers)andafadingneonsignto watchitall.
Fromfresh-grownpalegreentwigsyoudrinkthesap,
Asunyou’llneverreach,evenwithfull-grownwings.
Moltandmoltandmoltagain,yourwings, Growlessvestigial,foreverymonthunderground, Perhapsonedayyou’llknow,whatisthis“sun”, Becausewitheverysipyousipofsap, Youtastethemspeakofit,thewindingtrees, Ineveryviscousambersong,presentthevirtuesofitslight. Onedayyouburrowuptowardsthatlight, Eventhoughtheydonotfityourshell,yourwings, Havingtastedthemtalkofitagain,thetrees,
Whileyou’restillalways,always,alwaysunderground, Drinkingsweetgoldrumorsthroughthesap, Butit’sstillmonthsaway,thedaythatyou’llseethesun. Youbreakthroughtheearthforgoodtoseeit,onlythen—thesun, Andyou’redazzledbythegloriouscacophonyoflight, Youknewitwhenthesongandflavorranmoreswiftly(ofthesap) Andwhenthestrainofthemagainstyourshellgrewunbearable(ofyourwings) Youshakeitsdarkanddirtandcoldoff(oftheunderground) Andclawyourwaytowardsthestartofthetrees. Sotall,sosingular,sobranchlessarethetrees, You’dthinkthey’dmimictheirmeanderingbelow,above;whilethesun, Itsbrightnessbringsstrangenessabove,forunderground, Youneverrealizedthereexistedsomuchgreenlight; Clingtoyourshell,beholdtheworldinvertedandstretchyourwings, Asyourbloodpulsesthroughyourveinslikesap.
Youmirrorimage,youforevercompanionofthetrees, Andlook—howtheyshineandwhirrinflight,yourwings, Flashinggoldenwiththegazeofthateyeabove,thesun, Yousingandcall,chatterandflybeneaththelight, Sobrightthatperhapsyou’veforgottenlifeunderground. Itshinesuponyourundividedworld,thesun, Illuminateshalfaheartyouneverknewexistedwithitslight,
No,notunnoticed— thewatchmansees,onlythewatchmansees, eyessharpdespitethedullinglyidenticalpatrol, butthereisnobackupforthisinfestationoflight. Thereareother,biggerfiresroaringelsewhere— whybotherwiththislittleone?
Perhapsthereisonlyonepredatorwhoputsthefiresout. Onlyonebeastprowlingamongthetreestosnuffouttinysparks. Butwhatuseisit,toprowlwithnosetotheground, whentheverdantskywardcrownisalreadyablazeinred? Thelightsleapandshimmerfromleaftobranchtoleaf,theircrimsonwingsflashing.
Thoughyou’dlongsincetracedandmemorizedthecourseofitsveinsunderground.
SeasonsEcho Theforestshouldn’tbesleepingalready, butifthat’sthecase,whydothelittlecharcoal-and-redemberscreepupwardsunnoticed, overtrunkandbranchandleaf, overturned-oversoil, overmoss-climbedfence, burningwithheattosucktheforest’ssapdry?
Thebeastlyflightlesswatchmanstalksalongthesamerouteasalways, puttingoutonesparkbelow foreveryhundredabove.
Thebirds,inthemeantime,callandechofromonetoanother, onetoanother,springtosummer, Butwherespringsings,summercanonlyfollow. 21 are you frozen, like me? timestuck, with amber-crusted joints and dust feathering your lungs does your blood move still? or did it stop a er 16 or 17? I stopped growing sometime then and when I did, I found my problems were too small and now I am too big: my skeleton splits skin, pith spilling so I sit, sometimes sleep, and wonder if I still think in infancy, my thoughts and girlish dreams growing vignettes of mold a cerebral, frayed screen hangs somewhere replaying memories in technicolor, a litany for false gods I never learned how to grow up or move on and now my back strains from those desultory years so I lie weary at the cusp of 22 my limbs are frozen and my blood stinks of childhood decay yet somehow, over the lingering seconds and days,
I have seen bones, remnants of a seventh grade frog dissection
Thereshallbenopeace
Thereshallbenoprosperity
Spattered bloody, the acuteness of blank white is ever prominent, I am reminded of this as I fist my fingers, Until they become pale, deoxygenated, fissured Camaraderie, starvation is a welcomed friend Breathing in deeply so as to find satisfaction, In tracing the boning of ribs
Smiles fade, slowly counting down my body weight
Wecanonlyrememberthemarksoftheiranonthebarestflesh
I must grasp at the portrait of my being and forfeit its shame how silly to walk with untrained feet, even sillier to let youth break your heel Bones
Theoceanofinnocenceswellsbeneaththetendrilsofthegreyestlove
Feasting like a ferret, forgetting caloric intakes, Memorizing the miniscule distance between skin and bone, It will multiply before long, In hoping love is as warm as adipose in December In hoping human connection returns, As the stepping scale becomes another lifeless object. Untitled The hearts which have been felled with sickles, Slowly turning to soot with deoxygenation, Pumping still from remnant muscle memory Decapitated, they rock to the lull of weeps Heavy with dead weight, they are deserted
Hope of decomposition becomes panacea
Gone is life, gone is light, gone is sentiment And with it, the mutilated corpse made vulnerableALament of Love:
O’theyellowbirdstaresblanklyatthewindowlessgrove
Wecannotremembertheforgingofthetimber
Fortherearetwosingers,andonlyonevoice Fortherearetwolovers,andonlyonescream Thevoiceisshallow Thevoiceismeek Aninvisiblecloaksinkstangledtotheweeds Themermaidchoosesnottotouch,thebirdchoosesnottolisten Thegirlislostinhishands Nolongerfleshorsoul,sheisonlythedriftingbonesofstagnation PlatoGoldtalkedaboutthosebornwith Silverintheirblood,butyou Youwerebornwithgold. Thisworldissplitdownthecrack, Tothosewhoweepinthecold Andthosewhowipetheirtears With Whichdollars.willyoube? Theanswerisalreadydecided. Youaretheonetomakethosegoldendollars,Andonewhowill NeverShedtears.Ihopeyoubecome
Midas Withallhistouch Andallhistalents Thatyoumaytouchtimeitself Soeverysecondbecomesyour GoldenHour. YouwerebornwiththesilverspoonHoneit.Makeityours. MakeitmoreandmoresothatyouNever,ever, Runout.
Becauseyouhavetalent-realtalent. Andthosewhohaveit Shouldneverbecome Thosewithout. sentinel it is too plain to see the sun fall and rise there, in the soft line by the water, I feel without: my eyes full, my skin lost I wait to be cradled in the heat; glitter on grain, cliffside and collapse beneath yet I remain unscathed sometimes I ask this spectacle of rose, that which cracks from land and pulse, to hang low, unmoving and set your red giant upon me pink minutes will last days
TSpecial.alentpreserved,abilitypresent: That’syou.It’sinallofyou. Reflectallthatisspecialandallthatisunique,Sothatthosewhodon’thaveitadoreyou Andthosewhodoenvyyouevenmore. Idon’tthinkyou’deverunderstandwhatit’slikeTobeonthebottom. Butallforthebetter: Sitatopthethronebecausetheworldgaveittoyou.Iwillliftyoufromthebottom.
Eat
RealizeFillDevoureverything.more.Tasteeverypossession,yourhunger,thatyouweregivenitswarmembraceAschosen.
and I will bathe in that stretched pocket of time and even now, in the blue light of the room my head points west where far off, stood by the dark and music, the sky permits a mountainous range of air: a yellow sliver against a great dusk and I wonder, will I ever live in it or will I watch forever sana maulit muli maybe i won’t be so tired to whisper another “pangako sayo ” anymore i i told the stars about you. i spoke of softer moments like dwindling red giants in empty spaces, and supernovas of static realizations i whispered your name to the moon our ancestors call him the moon boy watching his magnetic attraction with the waves of this planet, bulan caters to the night sky diamonds dancing about him my lola taught me a story about the stars how they are the sightless splendor of the souls of the dead and sidapa sends each one over to join bulan in gentle breaths and deathly delicacies do you know of sidapa that watches bulan from afar? do you know of the immense space between time and of colorful cabernets, how sidapa loses a part of his own, wishing each soul sent was his? i’m a bit terrified really, of being tethered to this earth i told of the constellation on your cheek and its echoing mortality between each breath you take bulan not knows of sidapa low tide in the soul, like a stagnant laguna these are the indoctrinated paradoxes
and hope in burnt out shooting stars there is an understanding i have of sidapa of the faux selfishness to sending souls, but oh, who could not love how the moon dances ever so gracefully, in the overwhelming presence of others so i send up another part of my trust another soul sent into the sky because in the empty night and waning illumine you light up again TheyShallNoLongerSojournHere
Forthisourheartisfaint Forthisoureyesaredim: Wememorizedeverysquareinch oftowninrestlessramblesalongMainStreet, splitpomegranateseedsonparkbenches, sheddingthepasswordstoourselves
There'saphotographIlove fromahalfdaywetook onarentedboatnamedPegasus. Windinourhair,wewerethere butallouredgessoftened, Yoursharpbrowneyesstopped appraisingandjustgleamed withflatcontentedness, Mygeneroussmilefeltrealagain. Youcanseeme,headtuckedintoyou whisperinginprayerfulpauses thatwe'dneverletgo Whenneverhappens, hearusshatterintofourthousandpieces Onebatedbreathbecoming Fivehundreddesperatelypanting. Watchahomeland Slipbehindwallsofmist
