My Phil, to you I’m praying.
While you’re a spraying rain
I am a cup you’re filling.
I call this feeling “philing”.
I blessed your shaking lashes.
Beneath the turning flashes,
Among the solid towers
I followed you for hours.
You burnt my secret fire,
You’ve been my sacrifier.
I’m buried to return all
My philings to eternal.
July 25, 2005