we arrive past the flow of pedestrian traffic.
that long jeepney ride. half the time, your outstretched arm hovers around.
it was past dusk. and i wanted to be on time for the basketball match.
such perfect moment. you came with the same agenda.
our stage was not the playing court, rather the lower box.
most of the time, there was silence. engorged at the frontal show of ball handling.
but moments when catchphrases were thrown,
do seem like invitation to in retort.
and the occasional glances.
at each others purview.
more than the occasion.
what followed suit, came the provocation.
this was unfamiliar territory - the journey back to start.
as you declare an unannounced detour.
you led me, and with assent i obliged.
unlike the earlier's grunt.
this one, no strut of eloquence.
only the language one does
without the vocal guts.
the year was 1999.
new to this place called manila.
and it happens again.
such gregorian run.