Fernando Ayala (July 27,1964 / Quezon City)

there are tears

in the nooks and crannies

of my soul

after the dance is done



puddles of blood

among the pieces

of my life

after the dance is done



broken sighs

scattered on the lawn

of my memories

after the dance is done



the roses brown

and kisses melting

in the sun

after the dance is done



shifting sands

time, wearing smooth

half-empty glasses

when the dance is done



until the next lesson

I practice in my mind

each gesture, each step

till the dance is done