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Louise Sep 2024
Kasabay ng iyong pagpikit
ay ang imbay ng aking katawan,
pag-alon ng mga balikat at pagkibit.
Kasabay ng iyong pagtalikod
ay akma akong aapak at papalakpak,
dahan-dahang papalapit sa entablado.
Kasabay ng iyong pagkukubli ng damdamin
ay ang pag-muwestra ng tadhana sa akin,
pag-gabay tungo sa kung ano ang tuwid.
Kasabay ng pagtago ng nadaramang totoo,
ay ang siya ring paghahanap ko ng sagot
sa wari’y hindi mo masagot na tanong.
At kasabay ng pagsasara nitong kurtina,
ay ang paghinto sa pagpatak ng luha
at ang ating maligayang paglaya.
At kasabay ng pagdidilim nitong entablado
ay ang kaliwanagan na di nahanap sa’yo
at ang aking pagsuko para sa teatro.
At kasabay ng kanilang hikbi at palakpakan
ang pinakahihintay na pag-uwi sa kawalan
at pagsalubong sa sarswela na naman.
Louise Sep 2024
So many more things I would have loved
to share with you.
So many more stories I would have loved
to exchange with you.
So many more words I would have loved
to learn and unlearn with you.
So many more emotions I would have loved to know if you feel the same way, too.
So many more things I would have loved
to share with you.
Your music.
Your warmth.
Your personal space.
Your laughter and their sounds, reverberating between our bodies.
Our bodies.
The night.
My tongue.
The silver moon sparkling.
Your necklace, I want to share it, too.
Your rib and my rib, kissing too.
As friends
Louise Sep 2024
Cuando la noche es gris y fría,
te espero como esperaría
un atardecer colorido cada día.

Cuando la montaña se vuelve traicionera,
me aferro a ti como a una piedrita
que me ayudará y salvará mi vida.

Pero cuando esta ciudad se vuelve demasiado exigente,
¿serán nuestro amor el teatro
al final de cada agotador mes?

Y cuando la vida se vuelve
demasiado implacable,
¿sería este hogar el confesionario
o la iglesia al fin de cada semana horrible?

Pero cuando la música se detenga
y todo deje de ser divertido,
¿me seguirás abrazando,
manteniéndome a salvo del frío?

Y cuando el telón cae
y el escenario se oscurece,
¿te quedarás aquí conmigo
hasta que veamos el amanecer?
Flamenco, teatro, Manila, et cetera...
Louise Sep 2024
We would exchange contents of our souls,
open up my hips like you would a hole,
where you'll pour your sadness into;
and cover all over my grief,
like I'd spill my anxiety,
then glaze over your anguish.
So, we'll never have ***, I think.
We would rip each other's skin like ribs,
tear through our necks,
leave them red with bites and nibs;
or maybe it’ll be a slow night and we’ll read,
and maybe you’ll tell me I am who you need.
So we’ll never have ***, I believe.
I would tell you how sometimes slow hurts,
and sometimes,
it’s the absence of fire that burns.
I would tell you how it doesn’t make sense,
and sometimes,
what makes it present is the absence itself.
So we’ll never have ***, I bet.
Maybe you could tell me about these instead;
how you don’t know when it happened.
or if you could, tell me at what moment?
Maybe tell me that I'm always in your head;
or wishing I'm giving you one instead.
And that you don’t know how it started.
But it’s starting now isn’t?
It’s brewing now at this very moment,
or even way before.
Come closer, tell me how
you’ve been waiting for this very moment.
Whisper how you want more.
Come to me, my wave, I am your shore.
Tell me in any language you want; there's not a single one I wouldn't understand.
Louise Sep 2024
Je sais que tu ne peux toujours
pas m'oublier, comme ta belle histoire.
Tu ne peux pas oublier mon nom
non plus, c'est comme chuchoter "bonsoir".
Je veux oublier comment tu prononces
mon nom, mais je n'arrive pas à me souvenir
d'admettre que tu l'as dit le mieux.
Peut-être que je le ferais enfin si seulement
tu me disais aussi s'il y a quelqu'un qui
pourrait t'embrasser mieux que moi.
Même si mes amis me coupaient
la tête parce que je pense encore
à toi dix mois plus ****,
même si le monde entier
me faisait un procès parce
que je continue à essayer
d'écrire sur toi après un an,
je me brosserais les cheveux,
remonte mes seins,
je mettrais mon trousseau,
réparer ma jupe
je me tiendrais devant une vitre et je dirais:
"Qu'ils mangent du brioche!"
mais pas après que tu aies
encore goûté à mon gâteau.
Mais pas après que tu aies
encore goûté à mon gâteau,
encore et encore...
Non, je ne regrette rien...
Louise Sep 2024
"Love waits, lust rushes",
some idiot on Instagram preaches.
Or Idstagram, if you will.
I call him one, but it's the truth
he brews, spews and spill.
He's an idiot for he fell in love indeed.
"Find your missing rib, not another *****",
another proclaimsㅡa poet this time around.
That would be me, only if you want.
I meant the idiot poet or your missing rib.
You can call me a fool, for it's the truth
I keep, speak and ****.
A friend who lies or a lover who stays still.
I could be both, if you wish.
Choice is not mine, not this time.
Louise Sep 2024
How social is a "social" dance exactly?
Depending on one's culture, does it vary?
How "intimate" do you consider intimacy?
Depending on which parts of your body?
How would you define what's touchy?
Depending on where you want it, maybe?
But when do friends dance, exactly?
Is it every after midnight, when they're free?
Or when all eyes gaze, at afternoon at three?
And where do friends dance, precisely?
Is it at the supermarket, with so much glee?
Or when they're uninhibited, at some party?
So how do friends dance, really?
Would you be so kind as to teach me?
Would you be graceful enough to guide me?
Would you step first and lead me?
Would you stop last to kiss me?
"Dance"
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