Note For Siargao (3) Poem by RIC BASTASA

there is a way to tell you the truth
i can always pretend that i do not know you
i am, as your mom says, compassionate to the
lures of a liar,

last night you told me that you have won a prize
the one that you paid for living
a life that you wished but you didn't have,

i listened attentively and when i slept late last night
i was moved to another place of having to understand you much better
and deeper

i want you to be another black bird and how i wish
that with your broad wings
you will fly away from me even without notice