Gift 2 by J. Neil Garcia


Lost in the sea’s
unforgiving blue,
I seek you.
Before me
the day unscrolls
its naked scripture:
sun, vision’s burning field,
islands, faint presences
crumbling in the distance,
water, the fickle immensities
life is made
constant by.
And it strikes me
I love the sea
because it borders
this suffering world
and the next:
the soul, it is said,
travels in a boat
from a winding inland river,
homing clear-eyed
toward the ocean–
which is the bottomless
And I know:
here, upon this beach,
wash the crushed remains
of what was once mortal:
bone and kelp,
driftwood and tentacle,
porous red coral–
life leaves behind
back to brine.
I am home here, then,
whom the world
never loved,
and from its torn edges
I can almost see
it all end:
an onrushing tide,
a radiant sea-swell
sweeping away all appearance,
gentle eddies
whittling the self
till it is no longer
even sand.
I think of you
landlocked and lost
in another element–
your body.
The sea teaches me
love is a wish
not for safety
but for destruction.
I am not ashamed
to admit it:
I love you
the way water loves.
Which is to say
I wish the world
were through with you,
so you could return to me
ravaged, upon this shore:
a shell
held tight
inside my palm.

63-65 Hennessy

Blog, Photography, Travel, Uncategorized

I just got off the phone with my sister, I asked her, “When are you moving out?”

“I already did!” she says.


This is the intersection going to her house. I spent many nights in her tiny apartment. It’s probably smaller than my room in Manila but I love it. We went home to that tiny place after many adventures. I can’t believe that the next time I cross this walk, I won’t end up walking toward the little drug store on the left.