Back from the Young Men's Camp

M and B met each other
with a kiss at the airport and then,
we drove thru metro streets
to buy dibidees.

at home, i lay down on cool parquet floor
waiting for my swaying soul to
alight align once more with body
already smoothly landed, via PAL

no one asked me to dinner
and i asked no one
stomach grumbling: i thought of
Y's wide bright smile,

P intensely listening and silent
J's shy eyes. young moslem men: mabuhay.
yes, they too live, love, and are lonely
in Tawi-Tawi. as we are.

and oh, how i miss the view.