/My personal favourite though I hope he won't ever read this. The 'Lola' here means Grandmother/

In the cerulean curtains of the sunup sky,

The sandy daylight warmed

The brittle bones of senior citizens jogging away

From death's distance.

And there you walk

past them

towards our prestigious school.

A common company for an old soul like you, young yet,

Always late, attending first to your loving lola.

You, who were called our class celebrity,

From ABS-CBN, playing small roles in mainstream TV.

Yet, you, with a mouth that barely opens, that I want to see widen, receiving my flesh.

In a silent communion,

gentle minutes of salivation.

That I'll fight for with my life

Like a weather-beaten war husband burying his comrades.

To come home to you,

not sane, not the same,

warm guns caging your frame.

To think that my grenade

could explode

In your mouth

as white flowers

blasting and blooming,

and arranged

by my fingers- to be

Offered for little deaths

From a not so great

War

Within.

Buzz cut season,

as you brought me

To try new barbershops.

At mouths of tattoo shops, where deep in my skull-

Each moment was inked in permanence.

A future déjà vu, when we visited an orphanage,

behind the ambulance,

table legs you scrubbed sexually, looking at me suggestively.

Then we cleaned the children's playroom for free,

Where I taught an autistic child like myself

How to sketch a face-

to save himself as well.

For free.

Each moment was inked in permanence.

To think that you showed me

Your legs in the open court

And said how hairy men

Are handsome.

So I pulled up my pants,

Instead of pulling it down,

To show you,

Kilometers-shaped Legs

Twofold hairier

Than yours.

And you shared your song

During our college entrance exam

Where we were both called upfront-

walked it like a red carpet, coming from the back.

As the library was filled

with book-smart students-

All eyes on us,

like flashing cameras

From each corner of the earth.

All I remembered was

You titled your song 'Unan' or pillow

And in coy coincidence I said:

"I made a song named bed."

Which I made on spot

from always

Thinking of you.

And I swear you didn't handle my critiques well,

when I pointed out the lyrical redundancies,

About staring at the ceiling,

opening one's eyes,

or something,

Speaking of redundancies...

You showed her face,

Flawless from your phone.

Which I sketched in under a minute

on the back of a long receipt,

That I'll throw away later-

She looked like Virgin Mary,

And in coy coincidence I said:

"My name is Joseph in Arabic"

Please let's talk about us,

Before COVID threw us apart,

I was threatened

to be flown

to famous foreign lands.

If I ever catch the limelight,

I'll muse you in the spotlight.

But ABS-CBN was shut down.

So you were left

dried by dreams,

And I taught myself

music production

Solely to help you

chase that fame.

I swore to

wet your lips

In concerts.

Though is it selfish to say:

That I'd rather have you known only by me?

In my homemade heaven, I'll make you my one and only, celebrity.