manila mountains make the shape of a woman’s back/

i am in the small of it/

arms outstretched in birthright search/

 

a lightning bolt to severed bough/

flame to paper/

adam’s hand extended on a cracked ceiling/

 

to the west is an ocean/
where my grandmother swam and dove for pearls/

black hair twisting and gliding behind her/

in this place filled with water/
i have inherited the distance/
and reaching.