Mar 21, 2015

I thought it would arrive at my doorstep / With a mad fist suckerpunching / To my gut or my cheeks / That it would mean a bloody nose / Or an angry, high-toned voice / And so much shouting / Or two sets of crying eyes / Embraces and regrets / Sorries and sorrows / No kisses but fists / Or that it would not arrive at all

That it would just stay there / Locked in a place where / Lost airplanes and ships are / I always thought that / It would never ever have / A form of anything like / Soft spoken words / Sweet looking eyes / Tender touching fingers / That it would lead us back / To awkward and silent drives / To airports and terminals / And it would mean / Space and other cities / Silence and emptiness / Strangers and strange things

I never thought that it would / Only come with 3 glasses of beer / A pack of cigarettes / An hour drive / To a home

And the in-betweens would be / Comforting silence / And our little talks would come / In three words, a sentence / Are you okay / I miss you / Are we okay / I miss you too / And that it would be all we needed / To gain
our light hearts back / For us to finally say that / We are / We are / We are / Finally, finally / Okay

Iligan to Cagayan de Oro
March 2015


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