life’s overflowing

Love is happiness when your beloved is happy. There’s a twinkle in your eyes, it suffocates me — with warmth. You’re blushing. I’m blushing. I’m so incandescently happy for you. I’m also happy you exist. I have learned that you need not know someone to love them. But what I know of you I do…

your hand fits in mine

I measure my love of a person by how well their hands fit with mine. It’s the color of trust, the brightness of my life and my future in the safety of your palm. I would close my eyes and listen to my heart as it beats to the sound of your footsteps. You lead…

I’ll keep writing.

Poetry from last week. Late night inspirations: friends in love, moments with Mr. Phantom, social anxieties. In vague chronological order. i i stripped myself of all regrets and sterilized my life of guilt the world lacks the strength to hold me i am a ghost in my own city ii if you are a monster,…

to ask the stars

My last-minute contribution to Buwan ng Wika (Month of the Philippine Language) this August features the ‘superstar’ José Corazón de Jesús, who was also known by his pen name Huseng Batute. Rising into prominence during the first half of the 20th century, Huseng Batute was an accomplished poet (known at some point as “Hari ng Balagtasan” or “King of…

#LoveWins: Love is more than just a word.

People should be careful with their language. Words have power, and meaning transcends what is written. When religious conservatives write their reaction posts on social media, do they mean “I do not support same-sex marriage –in the context of my religion” or “I do not support same-sex marriage –on the level of the secular state”? Because…

tbt:

the great thing about love is that it never remains; the great thing about time is that it helps you forget. i don’t even remember who this tweet was about, anymore.

日本 2015: Credits and Love

Words and any number of photos, artworks and dedicated poetry would not be enough to express how thankful I am to everyone and everything involved in making Japan 2015 possible. That is:  My family. Hello.

some localized anarchy

Interrogate my body. Question the heart why its beat is five times more fast, its rhythm many times more irregular. Examine the way the skin flushes, the nervous tics of two slick hands. Demand answers from its lips, red-bitten and sore. And chase that errant voice — why is it gone when you are near?…

Pablo Neruda: One Hundred Love Sonnets, Sonnet XVII

I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz, or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: I love you as one loves certain obscure things, secretly, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,…