A week before Christmas, I was visited by a memory of attending an early morning mass.
I can taste the kotsenta, potobongbong and latik as my mouth-watering mind imagines.
I can see the bright colorful luminouscence
And then I saw an Angel floating from a height
Strings pulling her up and making her float
She was my neighbour, a playmate and a friend
And never have I seen how beautiful she was
But she's been hanging there for a long time
Since the priest was late or two
Tired from all the people staring, she cried
And there, a lonely crying angel floated above me
raining tears on my face
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