Lagusan

Nasa loob tayo ngayon ng isang napakahabang lagusan

madilim, makipot,

mahirap huminga

nakakapuot –

malamig na hangin ang pumupulupot sa ating

mga balikat, malalayo ang ating mga daliri,

malalayo ang ating mga binti, malalayo ang ating mga sarili walang ibang malapit kundi

katahimikan –

nakakabingi, nakakasuka, nakakabaliw

Bakit nariyan ka sa kabilang dulo?

Nakatalikod. Dumudungaw sa liwanag

Samantalang, heto ako, nakatitig – isinasaulo -nang bawat linya at kurba ng iyong silweta

Napapaisip kung nararamdaman mo ba,

kung nagsisitindigan ba ang iyong mga balahibo?

kung may nararamdaman ka pa ba – Naalala ko noong namamasyal ang ating mga labi sa iba’t-ibang lugar ng pasikreto, mga bulong na nagdadala ng maiinit na hininga,mga yakap na nagpapakalma sa pusong pagod, pusong kapos at pusong nag-iisa

Naiintindihan mo ba ang mga sinasabi ko? Nakikinig ka ba? hindi ito katulad ng dati! Hindi maaring ganito tayo, na para bang lahat ng bagay ay nasa kaayusan, na ang langit at ang lupa ay magkaibang daigdig pa, na para bang walang bulkang nagaalburuto sa kailaliman ng ating pagkatao, sa ating relasyon, ilang kahon na ng sigarilyo ang kailangan mong sindihan nilang kasa ng alak nang kailangan kong laklakin bago mo idura sa mundo ang katotohanan Katotohanan? Ani mo, isang nagyeyelong gabi sa tabi ng kalsada

Anong pinagsasabi mo? Hindi mo ako maintindihan. Hindi mo ako naiintindihan. Hindi mo ako iniintindi.

Putang ina. Pagod na akong habulin ka palabas ng humahabang lagusan na ito na ni minsan hindi ako nakalapit para hawakan yang mga kamay mo

Dugo’t pawis ang tumitibok sa mga tenga ko, nabibingi sa mga palusot mo

Nalilitong mga luha at makipot na lalamunan sa tuwing papalampasin mo ang araw ng walang halik sa noo

Ano pa ba ang gusto mo saakin? Pa ang itatanong mo at iinit ang ulo ko

Oo nga, ano pa nga ba ang gusto ko? Ano pa nga ba ang kailangan ko sayo?

Nung isang buwan pa ito pero hanggang ngayon hindi ko parin masambit, nagpapasensya nanaman akong muli, dahil Mahal, mahal kita… Simple at direkta, kaya nagagawa kong pagtiyagan ang distansya sa kadahilanang mahal na mahal kita. pero Mahal, tao din ako. Mahal, pagod na rin akong mahalin ka. Mahal, hindi ko na kayang ako lang ang nagmamahal sa ating dalawa. Mahal, ubos na ubos na ako na naipangutang ko na ang aking kaluluwa. Mahal, naiiintindihan mo ba? Mahal, ayoko na dito sa dilim, palabasin mo na ako sa lagusang ito.

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The Hookee and the Hooker

THE HOOKEE

I laundered your clothes,
Cooked you a meal, left you a note, I suppose
I did the dishes, and dusted the house
And – as you wanted – stayed silent as a mouse.

You come home, I seize you for a kiss
hands wrap around me, oh, how I missed this.
I warm your bed, and say I love you. And how
fitting you say you do too, but you always end it with Right Now

 

THE HOOKER

Every day I get out of bed,
And you lay there buck-naked…
Something tingles down-under. I read your note,
crumple it, trash it and throw up when you dote

I go to work, not to work
but to see someone else give me a twerk.
And returning to my humble abode, I get another high
By pretending to love you and yank scissors up the sky.

Ice Cold

I pulled my jacket closer to my body as if it could harness more heat to repel the scalding wind that’s been prickling my skin. The sky was a dreary bluish gray in contrast to my awkward orange boots, mulching in the puddles as I walked in this rainy February morning.

Hmmm… at least my toes are toasty, I mused.

Walking down the familiar street to my apartment building, doors and windows were right where I left them – shuttered in. Sleep didn’t come to claim me the night before and I thought a morning stroll would satiate this churning stomach of mine.
I had tried to eat bread but I would just throw it back up. So, I gave up on that endeavor altogether.

My ulcer has been getting worse.
No.
I have been getting worse.

Slowing my pace, I counted the gravel littering the paved road, brought by the wind from the construction site two apartment buildings away. The familiar patterns and cracks of the cement summoned even more pain on my belly. And, I couldn’t help but remember…

I remembered when he used to be next to me, walking back to our apartment – when we were still roommates.

The heat in those eyes when he talked about his girlfriend, like the big bang happened all over again. The colors, the collision, the explosive passion and desire that lit him up made my chest squint often enough that breathing felt rewarding. He was this glow that captured the attention of everyone with a smidge of a smile. A blazing hearth that just refused to die.

But, then the west wind blew him my secret…

He rushed me against the wall and slammed his fist on my jaw. Shock grabbed the steering wheel, then disbelief, then anger, then confusion until suddenly I could hear him again. And with a pinch of courage, I met his black eyes, ice cold; seething as the morning I’m trapped in and dead serious with loathe, “I never want to see your goddamn face again,”

A cold gust swooped in and – sighing – I realized I was standing in front of the bakery where I last saw Michelle. Mr. Garcia had just raised the lock; open for business at exactly 5am.

“Good Morning, Mike” he greeted.
“Cold Morning, Mr. Garcia.”

written whispers and nicotine mornings

I saved a song for you
right here –
in my artery
Shouting in hushed tones;
the universe and the constellations
that seem
and become
a different flavor
in my corneas, as if
the world were made
to please my nostrils…

And those written whispers,
end up in an
ordinary napkin
or uttered to the wrong
taste buds
potentially creating new hues
for the soul; embarrassing the northern lights
or dicing the meat
of the mind; making a common butcher proud

and then comes the nicotine mornings,
because the dark periods were
just as bad
and I needed a hype
to continue on
with this ridiculous
hopefully fictitious –
monotonous charade
that apparently insinuates
that
nothing

is better
and the song
will still
be
tucked
somewhere

here –