Jose Garcia Villa to Luisa Igloria
"You do not hear me, but I still ask it:
If I left, would you follow my trail,
Would you collect the bones of stories they will tell about me
And wear them as a pledge;
And most of all, oh most of all
What would you give up
For that glimpse of me
You will risk again and again to see:
A figure under broken lamplight,
The endpoints of my cape flying upward to the moon
Because finally nothing, not even magnetism,
Could withhold from us the ache,
The promise of such music"
If I left, would you follow my trail,
Would you collect the bones of stories they will tell about me
And wear them as a pledge;
And most of all, oh most of all
What would you give up
For that glimpse of me
You will risk again and again to see:
A figure under broken lamplight,
The endpoints of my cape flying upward to the moon
Because finally nothing, not even magnetism,
Could withhold from us the ache,
The promise of such music"
Eric Gamalinda
I myself have chosen to forget a face,
A name,
Some cruel word uttered carelessly,
But not,
After all the harm is done,
Intending any pain.
And many others may have chosen to forget me.
It works both way.
Me people say, "nasa huli ang pagsisisi: regret is the final emotion".
It's what you see when you look back.
It's what's no longer there.
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