Allen B. Samsuya, Anthuluge ~ Easy Does It
She doesn’t know but I know
how she still has the hots for me —
How she keeps her hair kempt
and smelling of warm gin
and citrus so she’s sure
she intoxicates me
despite the distance she claims
to have between us. And how
she wants me to take her hard
against something, a wall perhaps,
or a closet, or a king-sized bed.
This, I can tell by the way she walks
away — the shape love takes
when nurtured in secrecy poised
on the curve of her waist.
But she walks away, anyway.
Being writer-ly:
Inspirations [sort of] notwithstanding, I've been trying to write more. Experimenting with languages and dialects to see where I'm most comfortable.
Current assessment: A toss-up between Filipino and English.
Loving the challenge I get from writing a tula and at the same time, playing around with length in English is giving a hands-clasped-behind-the-head satisfied feeling. Sadly, something erotic doesn't this way come. It seems being sensual is better done than written about (but this is just me).
Sometimes wishing I can translate to the sound of letters how my body curves at your touch, how a sigh slips from my lips at your caress, and how we dance to the edge of the world and explode midst a slew of stars...
that sort of thing.
Life, lately:
Been feeling a bit under the weather. The mad, mad combination of sun and rain and gloriously polluted Ayala has taken its toll on little ol' me. Work is something else, too. Physiology will buckle somehow when caught smack in the middle of shitstorm season. And so we sigh, roll up our sleeves and get to work (nonetheless).
Looking forward to the rainbow this June. A 45-minute plane ride will usher my feet back to Iloilo for a week of celebrating birthdays, meeting up with friends, and playing with my rottweiler Pucci. Some alcohol-filled night-out or two is also in the works. Perhaps, I can squeeze in a day at the beach if I'm lucky.
Oh, yeah.
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