Friday, July 2, 2010


Jim Bronyaur / Laura Mercurio Ebohon

It was easy to fall

harder to realize it!

It all happened

at the center of those days

where time was a side matter


strategic demolition

of these walls

brick by brick

layer by layer

a gravitational collapse

an implosion of senses

crashing stars in our sky

What is left now of all that noise?

broken pieces

without color

without texture

thin and fragile

like leaves in the autumn wind

they make no sound

floating restless

holding hope

of touching the ground

rusted rumble

chasing the time.

Each word –

another shot

another chip off a broken heart.

Stained glass eyes

distort the truth.

A one sided, endless cycle of love.

The love disguised for




Taste. . .

The warm breath on your neck –

feels greater than the cold winter breeze.

The punch of reality.

The shadow that passes with the day.

A soft touch on your cheek –

feels greater than a bitter winter smack.

The punch of reality.

The shadow that passes with the day.

Can you catch your breath as if races from you?

Can you follow the sound of your own footsteps?

The door.

The entrance.

The life.

The words.

The heart.

The handle is so cold outside. . .

but inside. . .

inside is warm. . .

everything falls inside.