Cheek to 2

The problem with sequels is how to stretch one thing to dual proportions. Repetition is out of the question — but changing it loses its trajectory, loses its linear motion from A to B, and becomes a hodgepodge of unrelated scenarios in a spherical vaccum. Which leaves us with today, which is a sequel to yesterday and a prequel to tomorrow — ie, if yesterday was Cheek to, and today were Cheek to 2, tomorrow would be Cheek to 3 and where does that leave us?

Ah, yes. Today.

Today, the lights were on him — I was in the dark, watching. Repeat! Repeat! His bare feet traipsed across the wooden stage. I needed to go but I just had to stay. Minumura na ako sa text but I just had to stay. A voyeur, if you will, a purveyor of sadistic shapes and bent bodies polluting the stage — and, in the midst, him. Him that I come to watch, him where my focus had to zero.

Cigarettes, cigarettes, cigarettes, what art thou the messiah of falsity or the broken bridge between fragmented souls? A smoking marathon, triatholon, decathlon. Two people, wet floor, wet chairs, the rain really ruins the mood, like how that clause ruined the effect of the sentence. Two people talking about bliss or what it means to be bliss or to be a bitch or who is a bitch in this industry or who is not a bitch or who was a bitch once and has tempered or who was not a bitch and grew up to be a bitch or who was born in endless bitchiness and will die in unrepenting spite.

Your smile that haunts me. Haunted me then, haunting me now. You complimented how I look — did it cross your mind that from yesterday, I needed to be prettier today. You said it suited me, I shrugged it off, but I blushed — where? I’ll never tell.

Lalakeng-lalake ang kutis mo, tol. Plans were made, plans shivelled down. Expectations rose, rising up to now, rising within me as I type this. That passing of burning out butts to light our next pleasured stick — and in that passing, a moment of contact, the tip of each fingertip swallowing me.

Then

whathappenedyesterday

happenedagain

 

 

—————————————————————– A MOMENT OF DYING ———————————————————

 

I check my phone and two messages from you. One introducing yourself. The second wishing me home safe.

A sigh.

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