Desaparecido

desaparecido a loved one has disappeared and failed to come home after seven years waiting is a jumble – an unknown jungle where origin, destination, and present place of waiting all melt and blend with the mist that hug the ferns. a fusion of pastpresentfuture that disintegrates at every moment of plumbed sighs. no shape, no color. neither coarse nor smooth. not a straight line of finding that follows searching that follows losing. neither a single stab nor constant thuds in the brain, or in the heart? waiting is a cobweb of despair, rage, death, hope – a crisscrossing of obituaries, candle lights, confetti, burnt garlic and onions, formalin, fresh paint, colostrum, navel, fontanel, diaper combat boots, truncheons, family photos, baptismal certificate, college diploma; a numbed knuckles of knocks pleading every gate, every door – military detachments, jails, government offices, television stations, hearts of barangay officials, ngo workers, priests, nuns, neighbors, owner of the factory where the desaparecido worked

and was last seen: “my daughter – help me find my daughter” i, a framed frown. searing sea. cascading hill. parched rainfall. assaulted every moment by rotten breath, heaps of cigarette butts, rusting thumb, gun powder. granules of sweat, blood, phlegm, semen. plucked nails. a crumpled hand floating between a door that has forgotten the warmth of its frame and a candle aching to be lit – i.