A Kind of Burning by Ophelia Dimalanta

Whenever you least expect it, you stumble into words that translate your thoughts. Here are mine, for the moment:

A Kind of Burning
Ophelia Dimalanta

it is perhaps because

one way or the other

we keep this distance

closeness will tug as apart

in many directions

in absolute din

how we love the same

trivial pursuits and

insignificant gewgaws

spoken or inert

claw at the same straws

pore over the same jigsaws

trying to make heads or tails

you take the edges

i take the center

keeping fancy guard

loving beyond what is there

you sling at the stars

i bedeck the weeds

straining in song or

profanities towards some

fabled meeting apart

from what dreams read

and suns dismantle

we have been all the hapless

lovers in this wayward world

in almost all kinds of ways

except we never really meet

but for this kind of burning.