by MARIA ALTHEA V. JAVIER
IT IS not surprising to see you wonder about what goes on as night falls. And today, you also sense something unsettling in the sunshine.
Could it be the statuesque sculptures that seemingly hide centuries worth of paradoxes? Or the empty, inhumane calls between birds and other creatures?
Perhaps it is the phenomenon of the sun’s bright rays rendering nothing but a black outline of a passerby. Maybe it is how your vision distorts your perception of figures in obscurity.
You suspect distant buildings too, with hundreds of windows coming twice the amount of eyes—housing secrets you may never know.
The bleachers also carry distant figures, ones you know you belong to. The thought consoles you.
Despite your newfound crowd, you still amuse me whenever you repeatedly peek behind. You seem weary, forgetting to admire the scenery and hidden horrors around you.
When your periphery fails you, what follows are subtle glances over your shoulder.
You never looked me in the eye and maybe I understand why.
It is a nice day out. Let sun rays block your view. I will sway along to the sounds of chirping, muffling voices you may not want to hear—the lifeless presence igniting your impending doubts.
I will let daylight deceive you with its little merry tales of haven. The crowd you just eagerly ran to has eyes too.
I will let the damp field further suck the life out of me as I use nature’s deception in the pursuit of you. F