Distances     
 
January:
the silence between us
as we tried to fill spaces:
our fingers, bodies
trying to catch the words
that hang above us,
air.
across the table
silence lives in the cup of coffee
that you sip---blowing waves.
i remember
the August of no distances.
the warmth of you
on my skin. your fingers
curling into my hair, interweaving
my fingers walk across
the palm of your hand, they wander
as you sit with me
on the steps
of my old apartment.
you tell me that the stars are bound
to come out
soon---the time for leaving.
the heart of absences
the absence of the heart,
my own.
you light your last cigarette
putting it to your mouth
and I wonder what it would be like
to linger there.
there,
the sound of my heartbeat,
beating,
beaten
by the longing to be
inside you.
 
Letters
 
 
By ZENDY VICTORIA SUE G. VALENCIA
Year 47 |  Issue 3 |  2011
Year 47 |  Issue 4 |  2012