April 25, 2006


Tiny bits of square
scattered, designed
the table that separates

You made my name
in brown and dull silver
The packet of creamer
now reduced to letters.

I made the sun then
on the table's corner
With half-extended rays
in a half-ball of fire.

My name,
you said, is a masterpiece.
The sun,
I said, is you.

1 comment:

* diday kampupot * said...

for some reason, i find myself reading this poem everytime i pass by your place. this poem, i like. :)