It's a Saturday night in fall
and I'm the only boy at the slumber party.

Our festivities begin outside,
the cool wind keeping our knees together
as we sit by the pool
and discuss how cool we'll be.

Inside, her parents eye me,
like the Terminator
scanning a potential threat.

We play charades
and twister
and paranoia,
and we laugh and judge and scream.

At 10 p.m. we're told to sleep,
and I sneak up stairs to meet the stirring girls
who giggle in anticipation.

They get to work.
They paint my nails,
They make me up,
and at some point of reflection I see
that
I can no longer see me for me.
We fall asleep.

When I awake,
White pillow caked with
black and fleshy pink,
my friends put me back how they found me -
The only boy at the slumber party.

Her faint pop music,
The giggles they make
in the dark
In one room
Different worlds
Deep in slumber
Or awake on the surface
No in between
Sleep won't sink in
Patience wearing
Head ringing
Throat feeling bile
I'm tired.

catsong
sunlight can flood in and move out
as much as it wants
but it has nothing on the metaphorical campfire in the clearing of the crowd
dust motes are highlighted through
the prevalent smell of beers and wines
constant conversations
and they eventually settle into a voice
that hugs the space behind your ears
and travels down to your heart, which wiggles it's toes in blood sand
and time is only measured by
an expansion of the ribcage.
i am yours,
you are mine,
you are what you are
and i realize that not every song is a love song,
but there still should be more songs about this.

dogsong
there are certain people that hold your heart in place
without realizing it.
1:02 am
and we are on the playground across the street,
blue eyes in the grey dark and the sky is orange from the city.
snow is falling in cliques of flakes holding each other,
and we catch them on our tongue under the street lamps,
that take them and mold them into fairy dust.
My knees are red and wet, we fall,
we spin on red plastic that i can't name and god takes our heads
and holds them in place for the time being.
we go home singing silently.
3:10 am
and i am convinced i know what true love is,
even though I know at the same time i have no idea,
besides what was held in that room.

Beach shell varnished, kerosene,
A crack in coastal stain glass window, like a hair across the face
Disrupting the vast porcelain
“you’ve got a hair on your face, let me just”
and then it takes the lipstick with it,
a line printed like a paper cut,
“where’s the razor? Where did you put it?”
I put it in the bin and try and not seem too desperate.
We bundle into a car
Like some odd kind of sleepover.
A plaque on the wall saying the current prime minister opened it back in the day.
The old building is cracking like sedimentary rock in reverse.
The lemon lime and bitters clink in the bag and
I can almost convince myself it’s a summers day packing to go
Off to the beach, running down
With a picnic blanket
Sand in shoes
Tinkling down like an egg timer.
Seals, odd floppy babies about to bark,
The tussock a balding old man, spattered across the dunes
“let’s get icecream”
“let’s get fish and chips”
“let’s get out and stop take a photo”
the wind whipping your hair at your face
flicking icream off the cone onto your face,
why is it all so messy?
Let’s got to kākanui, let’s go to moeraki
Let’s stop to get a coffee.
You sure it’s safe to drive, this tired?
Let’s stop and have a nap.

You good to go?
Yeah
You sure?
Yup

I sit watching over the people I love most
And suddenly I feel like who I was again.

The prince, it seems, has learnt to trust me.
His eyes are closed and a smile plays upon his face
Even in sleep he lights the world around him and I wonder
how anyone could not see (and love) his beauty,
bursting forth in luminescent colour that masks his own insecurities.

I knew she trusted me
And in return, I protect her with everything I have
While she loses her senses, I catch her , feed her.
Makes sure she sleeps easy and awakens in time to
rush haphazard along into the life I am unable to fix.

My friend that mirrors me, curls around her.
He fogs his mind so he doesn't have to think
in the times when he cannot sleep.
His smile isn't real, simply a mask.
In the dark, I see his eyes glint in worry.

Helplessly, I watch over them.

Do make it clear if breakfast is included. If not, make a disclaimer: "I am in the belief that you coming over is good. But that somehow this twisted world resulted in someone twisted as me. Who although enjoys the company of someone like you at this hour, cannot accommodate you past sleep. That you can choose to either leave before I doze off, or that in the morning you will readily accept if I can only open the door out for you. You can make yourself coffee. But know that I am wary of being with awake people while I am asleep, as I think you can easily understand."

There are two types of people in the world: the foodies and the cranky ones. I do not intend to be the latter.

Do make sure you expect only as your place can allow. You cannot hope for me to clean up the eye makeup that heavy drinking had caused to drip down my face when what you have is but a cracked mirror and a broken sink. I cannot fix myself up amid your chaos. I would have to look the part. Act the part. Smell the part. You either want me to receive you messy or put you back up. And I know there aren't too many choices, but still. You gotta make one.

Do say only words that you will not choose to forget the next day. Do not make promises of more future promises. Do not paint images of love, kindness, and honesty when we both know our story will only last as long as this night. This is not a contest on who'll be more unforgettable. We both know why we're here in the first place. We both remember too much.

Do consider the possibility that a sleepover may include only sleeping beside each other, but that it does not mean "nothing happened." A conversation can **** me up just as much, perhaps even more, than the real thing. You cannot share to me a universe that you expect me to pretend not knowing the next morning. You cannot accuse me of meddling when you've told me a story of how umbrellas scare the crap out of you and so every time it rains, I remember you. And so every time it rains, I text you, "Where are you?" not in the possessive way others do, but simply to make sure you are somewhere dry and not dying.

Do smile at me the next time I see you, even if we both know we've tried to avoid each other. I, only because I felt you were trying to avoid me first. Even if bitterness starts welling up, please do not look away. You perhaps may have been a mistake, and I may have been yours as well, but we've never been followers of others' ideas of what constitute a tragedy. My love, our love may to them look ugly, but we've agreed their beautiful ***** anyway. Every time they tell me you like a pretty thing, I always think you are being sarcastic. And that only I could see your sardonic point.

[Beer break]

At heto naman ang mga bagay na sana'y 'di mo gawin.

Kung ipagpipilitan mo ang kwarto mo, sana'y siguraduhin mo na mas malinis ito kaysa sa akin. Na 'di ka nakatira sa bahay ng mga magulang mo (dahil maingay ako at matatanda na tayo) o wala kang ibang kasama (sa parehong kadahilanan). Kung tatluhan ang hanap mo't 'di mo naman nakayang sabihin na may ibang babae na pala sa'yong kama ay mas mainam pang makipaglimahan ka na lamang gamit ang iyong mga daliri, mahal.

Wag mo ipagsabayan ang pagkain at ako. Alak at ako, pwede. Ngunit kung ikaw yung tipo na pinagsasabayan ang sarap ng dila't kalamnan, bibigyan kita ng ibang numerong tatawagan. Tayo'y Pilipino't kapag pagkain ang mapag-usapan, kasali ang tuyo, bagoong, balut, at itlog na maalat, mahal ko, seryoso ka bang maihahalo mo ang mga isip-isip na'to sa klase ng almusal na binabalak mo? Je ne suis pas Francais. My kisses will not make you think of food.

Wag mo akong ikalia. 'Di ko ikakahiya anong oras man akong lumabas mula sa'yong tahanan, basta lamang 'wag kang sumalungat kung ang tanging bukambibig ay galing ako sa kanya. Kung ako'y matingnan at mapansin ang biyak-biyak kong puso ngunit bakit nga ba 'di magawang mapalitan, kapag ba'y sinabi kong ito'y dahil sa'yo sana'y 'wag itatwa't angkinin **** minsan kasi'y nabanggit mo na ako . . .

Kaya't kaibigan, 'wag naman masyadong pikon 'pag ika'y na-friendzone, kinakausap ka pa rin naman, diba? 'Wag mo sabihing tunay ngang mas nana-isin mo ang trahedyang dulot ng malisyang 'di nabantayan. 'Wag mo sanang isipin na ang bawat pagpakita ko ng kahinaan ay pagtatawag na bigyang ligaya ang katawan kung masid mo namang lungkot ang siyang nakapaglapit sa'ting dalawa. Walang paghihiwalay sa pagkakaibigan, at kung sasabihin **** wala na tayo'y ipagkakalat ko na minsan nga'y naging tayo, pumili ka.

At ang huli'y sana 'wag **** ipamimigay agad-agad ang sarili mo sa sinuman matapos sa'kin. Madali kang mahalin. Mabilis kang matutunang unawain. 'Di naman sa kita'y ina-angkin. Ang sa'kin lang ay sana'y 'wag **** pagsabayin ang lahat-lahat . . . ng dinarama. Hindi lahat handa na ika'y mahalin ng buong-buo, lalo pa't 'di isa-isa. Tuloy nagmimistulang halimaw sa ilalim ng katre, kahit sa katotohanan nama'y kapareho lang na minsan di'y naging musmos, kapwa walang alam, kapwa nangangapa, kapwa takot, ngunit patuloy pa ring sumusubok.

https://soundcloud.com/lanox-alfaro/the-dos-and-donts-of-1

The only sound in the darkness
Is the ceaseless whispering
Of my old window unit
It leads me to think of you
How beautiful you looked
Asleep in my arms
It really was silent then
Aside from the mumbled words
That escaped your lips as you slept
I spent that night wondering
What they meant, and savoring
The sound of whispered "I love you"s
Long after you'd fallen asleep