One morning, I had a cup of coffee
By the window of my hut at Lahong
Facing North. I let the air evolve into wind
From my mouth to the surface of the vaporizing
Liquid in the cup, forming waves,
And then took a sip.
The heat and the taste bit my tongue.
The sky was partly cloudy; it was raining
In the West whilst the sunrise shone in the East.
I took a sip.
I looked up in the sky and was pleased to see
A rainbow painted on the Western part.
Mamang always warned us not to point our fingers
To the rainbow because doing so
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