(no subject)
Here's to YOU and
all the
silly, senseless conversations
(and the food fights, the projectile wars,
the dance-offs, the fish, the insipid pranks)
and
all the other talks we've ever had
the ASHES of your ancestors in your vases
the body lying in your closet
invisible
DEAD
little girls named
GRACE.
that deadly weapon of a bronze buddha
in your living room.
Here's to YOU and
rugby, I mean RUMPY
(and puppy, let's not forget puppy)
and POLITICS
(for light reading)
and DREAMS
(veiled-women in rooms)
whiteboard space to doodle on
and that giant of a panda
you named Bear.
I still think you were abducted by an alien.
I still can't recall the way to your house.
Here's to YOU and
long walks,
LONG, long walks,
pretty walls and gardens
with garbled trails that lead to
age-old cannons,
a sleeping man
and his
black puppy.
You're leaving on the Red Eye.
Feel the rhythm of the drums.
You are a (rather defiant) house dog.
You write cold letters, and talk funny.
We traced Jose Rizal's final steps
which happened to be engraved
into the
cement
of the footpath.
YOU, and your (subsidized) cows.
Do we forget our 'last-time' memories, do they fade away into nothing?
What is one mile, in kilometers?
And
Most Importantly
Where the hell is Sta. Cruz?!
I'm cooler than you. Don't deny it.
Don't forget your last sunrise.
Be strong.
This isn't
a
goodbye.