Joelyn, my Surigaonon princess,
Over the rainbows, you live with feathers of my joy.
Eternity is their temporary I shall wait. Twenty years ago, we were
Lying on our wooden bed, as you told me about the beach you love to wander.
Yesterday are your arms I held, from your skin I clasped with my little hands,
Now to the burnt memory of its gentleness.
My Lianga, suppress my fire with your heaven-sent water;
Our land, can I still be touched by your ground?
Reeling with the leaves, I am still being caressed by its wind as it
Envelops my cream skin. There were the
Nipa huts and coconut trees, old CDs and comics
Of our grandparents’ springtime and romance.
Give me as I ask for you; ask me as I give everything—
Everything that has brought by how I burn every midnight oil.
My blood sharer, how my blood shed, kiss it with the lips akin to mine.
And for every year I wait for our bridge to come close, I emerge
Only to find myself drowning with burden, seeking your redeeming lullabies.
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