Excerpt from
Manileñas
By Aileen Ibardaloza

 

Waiting on walls that were white
and then
endless
restless waiting
for something
for a dream
for a man
piano keys and dog dresses
to stop the knitting in the shallow dark

Cecilia and Ysabel
their croon years and mosaic lives
built on rice cakes and red dresses
penumbral islands from grass-filled flower beds
and ponytailed strangers
Piano fingers tapping yellowed keys
sewing dog dresses
weaving water dreams
Lips that mouth forever
hands hammering twin-lettered gates
pink walls
gossamer vows
not a dance
not a love
not for women unasked
unvowed

Old Manila blowing bubbles
dirty cobbles
a river rumbling for the First-Quarter Storm
Two women raised in a convent
eyes down on mystery beads
Half a day in the kitchen
for the yellow-green leaves on the floor
for tomato thoughts and pepper talks
for the sun and their place
at the end of the day.

© Aileen Ibardaloza