For R. From Emma Poem by RIC BASTASA

it is you in handcuffs, you claim to be,
not your body, you're in for something borrowed,
as we all are,
you do not sell
to me what you have, a body, a soul, a mind
in trichotomy,
i have much of these already, and i do not mind
getting into these all again,
your body, my body, without the mind and soul
it is possible
i did it and shall do it
over and over again
for i learn no lesson from anything
neither from anybody
nor any book

i shall set you free from handcuffs, and have me handcuffed
instead,
in return by & of your hands
and arms
i will not kiss you, you will be surprised
i will not even hold you, you will be appalled
i simply want to be a black bird perching on your
shoulders as branches to a tree
in my mind,
and then you see me flying away,
no drama, just a plain
for general patronage movie
it's like deplaning PAL
from New York via Cebu with a note that i cannot
be in Looc, Oslob, not even a shadow of
my giveaway phone
and then back to my hometown in Dipolog
you bet, i expect no arms, i hate streamers
and the band.
i still love to do all these
and finish all these tricks all alone by myself.
Till then, if you are not happy at least
Don't be gay.