All I Want
My lover’s letters and her painting
of me decays in an envelope
wedged somewhere
in a box. She desired
me story by story
as if she was laying down
bricks for our dream
home. Here I belted out
wrong lyrics of Killer Queen
before the day bit
the dust and in turn, she
sang Melt by Yanagi Nagi like
puppies struggling
to howl. When the typhoon landed, we
anticipated the flood breaking
through doors. Neither of us
snuck a wink lest we chose
to die in sewage. We shifted
turns sleeping and listening
to news. We guarded
the candles from leaning
into curtains or clothes. By midnight,
the sloshing of water was
louder and the storm begged
to come in. The airstream
battered on windows and left
death threats by pushing
down trees. She and I
kept the other close
in belief of another
tomorrow. Knocks
on the door were a force
shoving me awake. You
better leave. The rescue
team said. This place is going
to collapse. We left.
I brought what I could
remember: songs, clothes, documents,
and her. The sun
was rising as we
left. Me
clutching her hand
but she never
clutching back. She couldn’t
recall. When she wrote,
I’m sorry, I’m personally convinced
I’ve moved on. I held
in my cries. There was a typhoon
happening inside. I released it
and watched
doors turning
into splinters, windows
exploding and floors
concaving with sewage
dissolving the painting and paper
promises she left me.
Julienne Maui Castelo Mangawang finished BA Asian Studies at the University of Santo Tomas. She is taking up her MA in Creative Writing at the University of the Philippines — Diliman. Her poems are published in 聲韻詩刊 Voice & Verse Poetry Magazine, ALPAS Journal, Inklette Magazine, and is forthcoming in The Rumpus. Her interests include esoteric practices, Japanese studies, and Jungian archetypes. She likes sleeping but sleeping doesn’t like her. At the moment, she is tending to a garden in Makati — anticipating vegetables to be harvested soon and for the hydrangea to be, once again, in full bloom. Email her at maui@voxpopuliph.com.
