By: April Mae M. Berza

Let my hello catch you once more,
a checkmate in our conversations,
the blades of grass not yet mowed
as high as the fence.

The river be a river
envious of the pearls in your chest
the ones I gifted you
when we were riding a horse
the river weeping alone
whispers a spring tune
to hide my hello.

I know you listen to my hellos
even if you are asleep
dreaming of drowning from a river
of obvious oblivion.

If my hello could salvage you
from the nightmares of maidenhood
let my finger draw a hello
in the mirror on your bathroom