how long has it been?
its not like we have nothing to say to each other still
for i know you've been to paradise
of yourself
and i've been to hell and back
without leaving my room

and do we still see the same sunset above us
will you still smell the same flowers i've planted
can i still recognize your handwriting
on your rough boutique paper
with petals on its fibers

and i've been playing that scene in my head
again and again
the sail of a beached yawl on a peaceful boracay
how we wanted to brave the tide to board it
keep it to ourselves
how we were one in that fantasy

sail the world
you have, and i will never
but doesn't mean i have no stories to tell you

how long has it been
it doesn't matter
i like your stories of travel and paradise
i have stories of home, and family, and hardship, and cheap twenty peso milk teas

how it didn't even matter to me that you were gone
only that you weren't here within me

it doesn't matter now
it matters that i can reach you
beloved
i have no more empty letters to give you