Collaborative Manifesto Project: here.
“You and I are so yesterday and flesh.” – Debbie Yee (via Rachelle Cruz)
This is what I remember: night after night, I sit at the edge of the bed with
furrowed brows. You ask me what is wrong. Grabbing your hand, I tell you all
the things: yesterday and yesterday, full of memories made of flesh, wash over
me like a wave and I do not know how to forget. Forgiveness has become a
violent word. Your face becomes lush like bright oranges for your reddish
brown skin tastes like balm. I clasp my hands, separating the sacred things,
putting “I hate you” with “I love you” in the same breath. You get up, take my
body and I tumble off the sheets like sheaves of paper. My hands are cut by
your furious eyes. Later, after you are asleep, I ask myself while I sit on the
stairs with only the hallway light on: am I fated a life where I no longer
remember to keep standing?
Thanks to: Paul, Rachelle, Chin-In, Todd, Ruth Forman, Melissa Morrow, Dani, Hari, Evangeline, Yael, Serena, Carol, and many more.
“For my poems cannot help but reflect my identity as, in the words of Filipina American writer Lara Stapleton, a ‘bastard of the Philippine diaspora.’”
– Eileen Tabios