We shook off the smallness of the morning
by being as loud as possible. Inhaled the cold quiet
and gave it back in sprints across the pebbles,
let the remainder of our beer brain
make believe us powerful – we were young!
A truly different time, when the hard leather of a car seat
was enough for a few hours’ sleep, mileage still to spare.
We could have pissed right at the ocean
and we’d be forgiven for our youth.

We let the jokes bubble up again,
waves approaching then retreating,
punchlines about morning breath
and sea monsters. How we made rough
look attractive, ambivalence an aesthetic,
laughed hard to sweeten the slurs
and wounds we enjoyed keeping open.
From afar, we look like four anomalies, actors
in a music video about eternal love,
the chorus sugary on our lips.

When they caught wind of our adventures,
the aunties called us makakapal, mga hindi na nahiya.
Wasting gas driving somewhere no one knows you
with people who know you just to look at stars!