chiaroscuro

evening slips over our avenue.
the trees shed ruby foliage.
the air smells of herbs
and almonds. safe
from the cold,

we rest at last. you give a word:
we indulge till we’re full and
happy. the moon promises
perfect hours; we’ll later
taste our morning kiss,

though we’re in no hurry
to get there.

: : :

the pain of beauty, a beauty of pain:
i can’t remember if you left me
because of my dark, or if i
darkened because
you left me.

my day starts with water, pills,
no time for proper meals. i
yearn after a morning that
keeps an unbroken
promise:

love will never take
more than it gives.

:
:

tampuhan by juan luna, 1895:

~A.