Morning after
A morning like any other, only you are now in another country, oceans away.
You would be glad to know that for a change, I woke up at 6:00 AM today.
But I couldn't be bothered to take out the trash in time for the garbage collectors because I was too busy crying.
In bed, in the bathroom, in my balcony. This, I don't think you'd be too happy about. It's a good thing I will never tell you.
-Hear it- this is the sound of all
That rifles through us and does notstay.
I remember that first night I met you. I held out my hand, thinking nothing of the exchange.
Never crossed my mind that you would pursue me, and so pervasively.
You accidentally destroyed my favorite necklace in the tussle that followed. Furtive embraces in hallways.
Long limbs encircling me.
Drunk on beer and the attention, I let you kiss me although I knew it was inappropriate.
I left just before the sun emerged. I hailed a cab in the early dawn drizzle and left you, wanting.
On our second encounter, I asked a friend to come with. I needed a buffer. I was all nerves, hot and bothered.
I knew I couldn't bear to handle you alone.
The third time you asked me out, I finally said yes--no chaperones this time.
But not til after I took three vodka shots did I head out to have dinner with you.
Then I took you back to my house, to my room, and the countdown began.
We knew this day would come. Three months, you said. You had three months left in Manila.
To me, it sounded both like a warning not to get involved and an invitation to jump right in.
It's funny now, how I attempted to put up a fight. Guess which one won.
---
To hit it off--what a rare and beautiful thing.
No better person to have gone on this journey than with you.
Now I have grown to have a penchant for Bic ligthers and hand-rolled joints.
And each time I smoke one, I'll think of you.
Good morning, babe.
This one's for you, with love from Manila.