long, long serpent slithers
close with his male human
lovers wrapped in each other’s
skins but the aswang does not
envy a small bit—her lips occupied
with her diwata’s own pair
a vision of brown and ethereal
whiteness beside the tree that expels
a sigh of contentment as its exposed
roots clutches close its mermaid sweetheart
underneath these couples grow a grass—green
as the Eden’s but holy only to us.
This literary piece is part of Katitikan Issue 4: Queer Writing.
