Your tired eyes still glow.
They remind me of dandelions...

Pan chased springtime dreams
as whimsical Lilacs cried...

Dusky and shadowy flowers
thrive in the twilight of shuttered lakes...

Why I always come back to you?
Might be the night breeze...

You always disappear
like Dandelions on a sunspot-filled road...

I am seeing this man lately
and it isn't even the 16th century...

Like the moon,
I don’t have enough lucency...

To know that
Manila cannot hold...

No one
will ever find...

I find it unusual
to be reading recipe books...

You cannot
reap Sampaguitas...

You describe my existence
by creating...