ipinikit mo ang iyong mga mata.

sa ikatlong gabing katutulugan mo nang basa ang iyong unan,
nagsamo ka ng mumunting hiling,

sa lihim **** paghikbi,
dinama mo muli, kung paano ang maging kulang
at mawala sa sarili **** mga pagkakamali.

ang mayakap ang sarili sa gabi,
ay ganti sa katawang hapo mula sa buong araw na pagpapanggap,
na mas ibig mo ang umaga dahil sa ligaya nitong dala.

ang isayaw ang anino sa himig ng pag-iisa,
ay paglaya ng isipan mula sa buhay **** mga bangungot

sa ikatlong gabing kinatulugan mo nang basa ang iyong unan,
nagsamo ka ng mumunting hiling,

mahanap mo nawa ang galak sa paggising.

Titillating.

The way your lips, traveled
unto to moist slopes of mine

Exhilarating.

The way your eyes, glimmered
with passion and with fire

Ravishing.

The way your hands, traced
the sensitive places inside

I could tell you tales of an infinity we had
Contained in the few stolen hours
We played with fire and ice
and each of those moments
Oh love, I've been dying to relive
Any time of the day, any time of the night.

I am not a safe drive. I'm a stormy sea.
There is no happy ending, just the aching feeling
of being almost there but not quite.
I'll cut our ropes and break our dishes
You'll shout my name and I'll cry for yours, but we'll be both voiceless
Whispering, "honey, what's the point, what's the point?"

I forgot about how you unknowingly smirk
When I start calling back your name
I forgot that you will only mock
The way I scream out my lungs to the ocean
Expecting sunken ships to sail back to shore
I regret that I never swept the sands you left behind
I regret that I memorized the trail on this island.
And I do not understand how come I still get stuck in-between
Now I know, I’m only here to help you build your castle

But I will never be crowned the Queen.

Set the alarm
Lock the doors
Lock the windows
Lock the shutters
Find the cricket bat – “put it by your bed”
Say goodnight to mom and dad

Although young, not naïve
I knew every night had the possibility of being my last

A routine that is now muscle memory.

Fear –
You may think
But life –
Normal for me.

Wake up
Turn off the alarm
Unlock the doors
Open the windows
Open the shutters
Put the cricket bat in the cupboard

Never being able to be left alone at home. Unwillingly dragged from store to store.

But – that’s the thing –
People don’t know the real Her,
They know the exquisite scenery, the unforgettable wildlife
They don’t know… But I do.
Because She is my home
Because being in constant fear for my life –
is normal.

Confused –
What do I tell people about Mother when they ask?
The person who raised me, taught me how to be grateful, how to ride a bike,         how to love.
Do I tell them? Will I scare them?

Although hidden beneath the tyranny – I would say –
the bloodshed
the faces of malnourished children left for dead on the side of the road the poverty struck soil the corruption      the greed the hunger the death the separation of class and race

Although a place feared –
Africa.

My Africa –
Whose sunshine you feel ignited in your soul
My Africa –
Whose smile is irresistibly contagious
My Africa –
Whose heart lies in the grassy terrain
The golden dunes of sand
The never-ending mountain tops
My Africa –
Who is the heart of various people
           cultures
   languages
          All who call Her home.
She is –
Where my heart lies even if I am thousands of miles away
Where my mind wanders from day to day.

Her air, instantly calls you
Her smell, instantly smelt
Welcoming you ever so dearly –
      Home.

Like all good mothers,
She is the one who can handle both the tranquil and turmoil,
the love and war.

She is my home. She is who I fear of disappointing.

My Africa –
is beautiful.

Finding a lover is effortless
for some people.
They only want a few things:
Someone attractive, kind,
funny or rich.

But
I desire
something so much deeper.

I want

an intelligent mind
that wakes up thoughts in me
I didn't realize were hibernating.

I want

to converse, analyze and debate
without being conscious of
the sun rising and falling
between our words.

I want

to make a witty remark
at a coffee shop
so he can reply sarcastically
just for me to jab back immediately
and for him to comeback back playfully
until we're both laughing
stomachs shaking
spit flying
the whole store staring
and we leave
without coffee

I want

our hands to stitch together
perfectly
like two lost puzzle pieces;
one found under a couch cushion
one found inside a junk drawer.
The rest of the puzzle has
already been thrown away
but
these two pieces remain
and they fit.

I want

to fall in love together
then together fall in love with
art, museums, songs, poems
T.V shows, radio jingles,
greek food, backroads,
our mutual hatred for pop culture,
doing the dishes (as long as he washes and I dry)
wrong turns, piled up laundry, life.
Just fall in love with life.

I want

to hurt with him

I want

to save the world with him

I want

to meet, see, understand
and experience all that is foreign
with him.

I think it will only take us meeting
and it'll only be history and happiness from then on.

It's just a matter of if a love like that could ever be
and if a love like that could ever be for me.