He peeked through the gate and waved at an orphan
I used to live here with my parents and siblings.
A young lad; traversing the oceans on a boat
British winters spent in his hometown
How nice of you to take an old man to dinner.
We found each other not once but twice
Did you hear the one about the Jaffna mosquitoes?
He appeared slight until he stood up
I study zoology but I work in human rights.
A windowless brown mall erected in the 1970s
My mother wants to pair me but I’m not ready.
Couples behind bright umbrellas overlooking the Indian Ocean
Wearing jeans is not my culture.
Palmyrahs sway as lights flicker
Old guilt, new forms.
sunset on the bay
They sat on windowsills and sprawled their belongings on a stoop.
The strong orange light on faces; mirror reflections on glass.
The politics of being raised not by one mother but two; one whose name was Jane.
A first love with the same name.
The Conspiracy Bar in Quezon City.
Shadows of the sun