The Box

It took me two years to finally finish this poem.

This is the nearest piece (almost decent) I made
about love.

Now there’s this box

We dare not open.

One night we filled it up with treasures

That both satisfied our fancies

You asked me if kisses

Can cap the night off.

You went on and on with this question

While I answered you with gulps and gulps

Of beer.

I ended up with a surrender.

And we indeed parted --

With you getting what you want

And me with memories

Of your gentleness,

Your warmth,

Your scent.

But questions filled my head

The next day…the coming months

No answer but a certain casualness

That smelled of guilt.

But amid all these

Is an unopened box

Wanting to be revealed.

And until then, we will know

If treasures have transformed

To fearful monsters.

-- Niña Elyca  Rabadam

April 2013