White Lie Poem by Inday Prising

for mama

How do I tell you
that I lose your precious
golden memories
in San Isidro

I need to find
a way
to let you know
how the breezes of the night
detested my favors
how I got so tied up
in a daze
within imprints of paints
and sounds of howling
and growls

If I don't tell you now
I'd forever be dreamless
this anxiousness
forever endless

So here it goes
here's my lie
the golden memories
got carried away
by the moon
and its tides

*ming