(Written on tissue paper, at San Rival Bistro, the Boulevard, Dumaguete City)

I can fancy
that sunrise
was melting in my mouth
and butter was cloud
– golden with the sunrays –
spreading in fluffy creaminess.

I can deride those
devastating moors of darker days
for failing to dagit
these golden medallions
sold just by the shores
of Dumaguete.

Golden Medallions –
Ah! I can continue that image
and delight at the velvety
crumbly surface
coursely polished
in shimeringly delicious texture.

I can play name-games
and draw attention
to the forest of Acacia trees
that border Boulevard yonder.

I can even allegorize
the Filipino heart,
stiffened by class or wealth without
but softened in sweetness within.

Oh, I could do all those.
But this Silvana
can bring no greater poetry
to the mouth
than its very dulce.


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