and every day i love you less and less
but there is chocolate pudding between my fingertips,
with the putrid stench of alcohol in my breath /
i remember you the way i couldn’t remember
anybody else.

it’s a long, long maze ahead
and i see all the lines and the streetlights
as my sticky fingers almost comb through my hair
blowing in the open window of a nameless lover’s car,
with my tender grief hidden in the flesh.

(i wanted to tell you all about it but i reeled it back in /
i wish i loved you more than i regretted you)

Editor’s Note: This article was first published in the Banaag Diwa 2025: Nasaag Literary Folio of Atenews.