i mourn us
in the form of
changing my beddings
weekly,
reading the books
i have long abandoned,
trimming my hair
once a month,
chewing food
that tastes bland,
fixing other people’s
lives as a job
while i shamelessly
write my silent
prayers in a notebook
where i have loudly
professed in the past
how i loathed god...
“oh please, keep him alive!”
so i keep repeating
things to make life
feel more familiar
even in the absence of
you.

when i say
i love you
it means i have
started
the procession
for the wake
of the wreckage
my heart has
tenderly chosen
to hearse your
ruins for

(nu) addan tu pay panawen,
pagyamanak ti bendisyon
ken dayag ti langit
para iti amin nga ridaw
nga binaybay-am nga silulukat.
mamati ak tu nga adu pay iti pigad
nga mangur-uray ti panagbaddek
iti dapan ko a kas madi ak
nga napukpukaw,
a kas madi ak nga sangaili.

(nu) addan tu pay panawen,
haan kon pulos panpanunoten nu
maysa ka nga arimukamok
wenno tudo. ammok tu lattan
nga maysa ka nga littugaw.
gapo iti panagsina iti lubong ta,
kanayon kon tu nga malaglagip
ti panagayat iti daga
para dagiti amin nga disso
ti luwasit iti langit (nadagsen,
napnek, ken agdadaras)
para ti adu nga istoria
nga madi ta gayam kukua.

silverstains on my ring finger
books annotated, written, and read by two
Gertrude Aletheia Juneau
board games and puzzles in dim light
small fists tugging the hem of your big shirt
minds thinking alike, lips speaking kind
Good morning, I love you, Good night

my mother raising her long awaited grandchildren,
my father building his tenth construction project,
my sister in her most difficult criminal case yet,
my brother flying a steady flight (or perhaps surveying lands),
my friends calling if they can come around,
my clients asking for their mandatory appearance,
my cousins sleeping over my house,
my dreams lingering around, growing and growing
my love, you, beside me in every aging second
my story expanding through the rules of time
Older, we are,
and we are still here.

my sleep paralysis demons
create a makeshift shadow
i often see with
my widely-open eyes:
your thumb rubbing against
the lines imprinted in my palm,
drizzling midnight footsteps
on calloused city pavements,
moist on my eyeglasses
from the fighting cold weather
and the warmth of
your gentle breathing,
synching feet in the trails
they take, humming birds
in the periphery of things,
regina caeli, tachycardia,
my acid reflux, 30 kph signs
then 20, yellow bell hanging
above my head, i love you,
i miss you—
or am I dreaming?