The Sea

by James Miraflor
Boracay 4.10.08, 17:30



The sea, its bluness and
whiteness and endless contrast,
imposes itself like an
indifferent sovereign on an
alien universe.

The gilded radiance of its
sunny dress, clothes the land
as if it was its own,
its own conceited smile,
reveling in the motion of
the light.

The pains of its wide jaw,
eating fishermen's boats,
as a child would eat
berries and nuts,
in a kind of selfish way,
never minding anybody's
business.

And all that existed with it,
the fluffy white moles on its teeth,
marks made by intruder vessels
on its blue lip - fast to heal,
and the bloody smear of
its calcified grin as the sun sets,
reveal its infinite arrogance,
stamped on moments
eternally recurring.