Paper Dream by Ernesto Pangilinan Santiago

My dream, I live it
in a paper
coated with crème caramel.

I frolic in words
of my shadow
with the seas, the skies and the lands
and tread the dunes
of time, touching all the things around me;
then settle down over a midnight coffee
in the silence of night.

Oh, I do attend the Sunday mass
but don’t know why I always find myself
skipping the communion–
perhaps, to end the raging war
‘tween the “I” and “Me” in my thoughts
for them not to walk alone.