(no subject)
K., bearing a packet of leftover genmai-cha, visited me in UP on the eve of his departure. The ritual with green tea I had hoped he would leave out. Very naughty, to forever suffuse my morning tea with sadness.
The bell tower was being repaired, but the kind men paused in their work to let us through. We emerged from the dust and shards to a sky whose dismalness added to the vitality of the orange blossoms of fire trees below.
I saw him look over the edge and become suddenly a little afraid. A man soon to be in his prime; so high up, our laughter was quick to give way to silence and solitariness. The wind formed complicated knots with my hair. In K.'s presence, the green undulations of acacia trees became the sea, and each shudder of the tower from the hammerings below, the slap of water on a banca yawing in amihan.
The bell tower was being repaired, but the kind men paused in their work to let us through. We emerged from the dust and shards to a sky whose dismalness added to the vitality of the orange blossoms of fire trees below.
I saw him look over the edge and become suddenly a little afraid. A man soon to be in his prime; so high up, our laughter was quick to give way to silence and solitariness. The wind formed complicated knots with my hair. In K.'s presence, the green undulations of acacia trees became the sea, and each shudder of the tower from the hammerings below, the slap of water on a banca yawing in amihan.