Please be okay.

Please be okay.

But if that’s too much to ask.
Well.
At least talk to me.
I’ll give you all my days and nights.
However long it may take
for you to be better.
We can curse at sunrise.
Drink whiskey by sundown.
We’d smoke and drink coffee
every midnight -if you’d like.
Or if we’re feeling classy,
sip Jasmine tea in the afternoons
when we’re supposed
to be busy.
I’d take you to museums
and we can weave stories
out of portraits of old men
Or make funny faces at
children playing in the park.
I’d take you
to bookstores that smell
of dust and history
and love.
And we can read
in between creaky bookshelves
-our knees touching.
We can order take-out and
sit in the middle of a field
at 9 pm or so, perhaps
somewhere in the city.
And we’d stare up and pick
our favorite constellation
in between Coke and french fries.

Please be okay.

But if that’s too much to ask.
Well.
At least let me in.
I won’t burn your toast again
I promise.
And I’d let you pick
the music we’d dance to
every single morning.
We’ll dance hula
to every Bob Marley song
on your playlist or
open up some scotch
to Armstrong and Sinatra.
Maybe organize our very
own wild rave party
-just the two of us.
Or I guess spend
the whole weekend counting
the number of tiles on
your kitchen floor.
As we sweep back and forth
to stories long ago
and tales that are yet to be.
We can talk about politics
and argue whether
we should have another gallon
of chocolate ice cream
-or vanilla.

Please be okay.
But if that’s too much to ask
Well.

I’ll be here.

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Published by

cie miraflor

A Filipino at heart and a Thomasian in spirit. A vocalist. A bookworm. A chocoholic. A liar. A dreamer. A coffee addict. A writer of poetry and short stories. A pending Information Technologist. A frustrated programmer. Blinded with love for Batman.

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