The Labyrinth
Swallowing
My timidity
With a long
Shot of puff
Amidst a sea of Jasmines
Sitting on wooden vases
Rippling
The smile
I hardly wear
With warm
Swaying lips-- so tender
Yet, as I dragged myself
To outlast
The whims
Of doubts--
Inside me
My mate came, with question
Marked on her face, in protest
Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | Year Posted 2008
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