the waves gently lick the wooden boat
as we sail to Guimaras
the wind is a lullaby in my ears
i try to close my eyes with the image of a lover fading
in the periphery,
then darkness.
then misery?
i wake up as if in a dream gasping for air
the sea waits underneath
the vessel fingers sand
Mango Island beckons.
Saturday, February 05, 2005
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