Kundiman

I have dreamt of you
last night, in fractions where
the sun kissed windows
filter out the exhalations
of the cold season, and there
you were saying:
My heart is no longer the weight I should carry.

In my dream, you
were holding pieces
of paper telling me
that we had better fold
them up and offer them
as birds to the sky. I begged
you to make tea.

You no longer do
the things I ask of you but
In rivulets of patience
I nod in surrender, contented
by your mere presence.

The wind sang trying to pry
open the windows.
All my faults mixed with the
Melody of regret but
it was singing the hopeful
tune you once played for me.

I have learned to return
the favor all this while.

And upon this waking,
I remember the convergence
of stark reality as the sun’s
starved glow suffices through
these lids: Your heart
is no longer the weight
I should endure, but my own.

Kundiman

dominee

Joined October 2009

  • Artist
    Notes

Artist's Description

From my first and unofficial collection, These Subtle Roofs.

desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

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