On a necklace made of common shells from the ferry place in Cebu,
I twisted every bead on plastic string
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My love does not fit into a box
It dances around it, pulling it this way and that to form a new shape made by the touch of
our lips
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when it began PERSON A SAW PERSON B as a fantasy made flesh…
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“stammer: to make involuntary stops and repetitions in speaking”
I’ll wonder why you find it so tiresome –
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though you say it’s 2.37, telling me what love is…
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