im sipping coffee by myself. that is unusual. the usual is a cigarette, and a really good friend. the regular meeting of morning, and lighting up to the lit smell of a newport. and on the other end of that billowing, was a good friend.
today, i woke up knowing i’d make this coffee, no sugar in the pantry. how to live without a little sugar? at least i still know how to sip the need to wake up.
it is unusual to surrender, to something as simple as black coffee. surrender to loneliness, so i’ll know how to wake up without the billowing of a ‘good morning’, from you. but as usual, i’ll wake up. black coffee, and a little voice inside saying, “time to wake up”.
sometimes i dream of a little sugar. like nostalgia, or serendipity, on days i’d never expect you whiffing through my mind, unusually so.
for now, a sip at a time, and a little dreaming, billowing skyward. i never expected freedom to taste so sugar-free…
if you can think of what has never been done before, is your story done by someone else.
you lived it. the story, ah, yes! i bet you won’t have the same outline as mine.
here’s the hypo-watered down version, cliff-notes-esque to mine:
bulacan – diwa’t dwende
1990 non-immitigration trauma – stockton…
roaches, mold, asthMAMA!
lola dolores – tita myrna
near-death lessons. came outAnthony
bye bye stockton.
sf – city college – 40’s sunset-
mission, s.assaulted, h.i.,vIP
dahdee died 2012…closer to Him
health, the best in my—
today: still frigh-10’ed-ing, not pre
one inch doing, 12 miles braving