GIVING IN

I counted every strand of his long,black hair

Unfurled on my naked breast

I breathed in the scent of his sweat

As he shifted his weight, still asleep

I closed my eyes and wished to see

If in his dreams, he's still loving me...

I sculptured every contour of his beautiful face

Sedated there close to my ears

More exquisite even to the closest

What an indulgence it must have been

I smiled with the rising desire

Yet I let him drift, to mend his strength...

I carved the Herculean mounts of his robust form

Still warm from the flames that raged

Underneath the sheets and the moon above

He stirred to seize all of me again

I saw a familiar flicker in his half-closed eyes

Then I felt every skin, giving in...

PASIKING NI IYA

Let me weave the moments ... 
 
   When I left you to the spirits at Tiptop 
   but the silhouette of your calmed countenance,
   slept with me that January night ... 
 
   When I caught the clouds at 18 BC 
   with eyes that did not warm even with your smiles,
   leaving a restless shadow in the dark ... 
 
   When I thought you'd never dance at Villaromana 
   yet only the fireflies out side knew,
   how the Cordillera moon rose with you ... 
 
   When I turned my back at Assumption Road 
   because the tears came closer than you did, 
   kissing my hand with California on your mind ... 
 
   When I rose on summer morns at Outlook Drive 
   and found you endlessly resonating 'neath my ears, 

   that I had to silence my heart so I could dream...

   When I made the night shudder at Abanao Square

   only because I wanted to tear the walls down,

   between two different worlds I built in my mind...

   When I had to catch my breath at Rumors

   even with the warmth of April breeze,

   I almost died watching you laugh in another's eyes...

   When I held you last at Session Road

   seeing the arms of Alameda stealing you again,

   from the web of emotions I was still trapped then...

   Let me just weave another moment...

   So when you come back for another pasiking

   I'd like to twine, loop you one with my heirloom

   woven with an ancient heart of an Isnag goddess...

MASTERPIECE

The dream catcher hangs above my head, 
dancing to the melody of a nearing slumber 
as the night lulls itself in darkness 
will the moon echo the chants you whispered, 
or your heartbeat while you twined the beads 
and spun the thread to weave it? 
Will it ever capture the mystery in your eyes, 
the countenance you always disguised 
as the silhouette of a full moon god? 
Will it enchant your mortal soul now,
see through the dreams of a sleeping goddess 
and make you believe in my magic? 
Will you find the beauty you imagined 
paint it, sculpt it with your hands, 
purge the hues from your soul 
or will you elude the moment 
sleep in the land of shadows 
and let a masterpiece slip out of your dreams?