by Ayn Frances dela Cruz

It is always the you
that we write about
the you that begins
with our first breath
that hears the sighs
we emit
foetus-like in the night.

I have always
searched for you
that first moment
when I slip-slid out
from my mother
wrapped in my blood
was it you
who scraped
my first skin?

In the near horizons
of sleep
I look for you beyond
the overextending shadows
only to see you tattooed
on my eyelashes.

About the Author

Ayn, 25, is a lecturer at the Department of English and Applied Linguistics (DEAL) in De La Salle University Manila. She is currently taking up her MA in Comparative Literature at the University of the Philippines. She was recently published in The Tower Journal.