the rooster call of the early
morning: as though in greeting of
a pestilence foreseen by
way of the half-glow.
a dog barks in response to
this intrusion while the roosters
sound out histrionics reminiscent of
Father Time’s marriage to terror.
here i mistake a bird’s song for
a swimming butterfly: a kind of
synesthesia whereby a stillborn sigh
reveals itself before the inner eye.
Nature, unleashing her canonical tide,
bruises the air with blind stirring
and makes way for her cruel
and saintly design.
the womb preceded me
and followed after me,
the grave thus stood ever more dismal.
i wish to leave the circumference
leave me to my springtime
i am encompassed by a cocoon
but that would not do
for it is a faithful casket,
where the body lays blanched and moth-
i cannot not know solitude.
Krystle Eilen is a 22-year-old Filipino poet who is currently attending university. During her spare time, she enjoys reading and making art.
EDITOR'S SONG PAIRING:
CON VOS - Alaska