here first. until we are there.

chino roces avenue

i trip constantly, over my words mostly.
but over my feet too. (on my knees, my pretty heels on anonas)
and with my difficulty finding shoes,
i find myself usually curling
my toes worrying that i’ll slip out of them

every time i walk over something that
seems precarious ( a cracked pavement, the gap at the mrt station…)
and not fall —- i always see how
i may have fallen.

* i also wish people would stop spitting or weren’t so sick so often.


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