The Varsitarian

Heaven’s mirror crashes on virgin
ground,—jolting his senses.
She wades through its crystalline fluid and the stars awake,
dancing in intricate synchrony.
The smell of coconuts and salt in the air
resting on her sand-strewn hair.
Beneath the surface, seaweeds sway,
while streaks of color dart back and forth in anxiety —
The giants have returned once more.
He clasps his pale hand over her burnt, brown skin,
“Everything at its own pace,” she calmly says.

I am home.

Mika Rafaela A. Barrios