There was the way you said turmeric,
& how you stressed the wrong syllables
With your FilAm accent.
For ten years you had lived
In upstate New York, until one day
Your mom learned of a couple making out in the bathroom
In your Catholic school & decided
That moving back to the Philippines was the only way
To preserve the values
She wanted you to have.
We fuck on your bathroom countertops
Your custom-made wood furniture
Kitchen island, couch, bed
When you cum you say
“You know you’re really good for my ego”
I forget, lost in post-orgasm hazy brain
But months later, I remember it
When I pass the bookstore downtown,
Time zones away
I remember it and forget instead
That I want to check for the book you told me about,
Griffin and Sabine,
Your favorite when you were young.
That I’d never heard of before
But started looking for
Stopping into bookstores here and there,
Everywhere I’ve been since you
When I’ve forgotten at last to search
For what I was never going to find.