“Tell me, what else should I have done?” — Mary Oliver, The Summer Day
The human lifespan is numbered,
seventy-three years on average, give or take
the mercy of circumstance.
I have twenty-two less years left
to mistake for permanence.
I am burning wishes
until only regression remains,
until I am small and soft
and indistinguishable,
until my face mirrors another, with no
names to remember, nor sins to confess.
Until I am loved in excess, without reason
or doubt.
As if all the years
of this short summer
could be gathered
in a single gesture,
a hand
stroking my fur,
a gaze
held steady,
someone
playing with me.
Until I am unconcerned
with the counting,
with wishes wilting and disappearing,
with knowing or not knowing.
Keeping only the lingering
of a warmth that lives
just long enough
to be missed.
Ronnel Bermas (he/him) is a first-generation undergraduate at Ateneo de Manila University whose work has appeared in Aster Lit, The GUIDON, and HEIGHTS Ateneo. A Pushcart Prize nominee, he was also named a Theme Winner by Aster Lit and a finalist for the Lasallian Scholarum Awards.
Featured image by Jordan Stewart on Unsplash.
