White Caterpillar

Are you happy?

Your message floats
in my mind like ice
in cherry and vodka. Images
of you disperse into background

noise at the bar. I trace
the coaster and pen down
my thoughts on tissues before
rolling them into white

caterpillars. They huddle
beside my glass growing
with moisture. When the time comes
they will veil themselves

in a make-shift chrysalis of trash
bags for years to burst
out the memory of burning
love now dead. It is

a butterfly with punctures
on its wings fluttering
about my head before
dying by my hand. I smile

throughout the night, asking
for more tissues, wasting
ink to re-
member you.

By Julienne Maui Castelo Mangawang

Biography:

Julienne Maui Castelo Mangawang finished BA Asian Studies at the University of Santo Tomas. She is taking up her MA in Creative Writing at the University of the Philippines — Diliman. Her poems are published in 聲韻詩刊 Voice & Verse Poetry Magazine, ALPAS Journal, Inklette Magazine, and is forthcoming in The Rumpus. Her interests include esoteric practices, Japanese studies, and Jungian archetypes. She likes sleeping but sleeping doesn’t like her. At the moment, she is tending to a garden in Makati, Philippines — anticipating vegetables to be harvested soon and for the hydrangea to be, once again, in full bloom.