Bitter shade or none at all,
underneath the fiery ball,
I bite my teeth as I go outside,
praying to Christ I don’t burn
at the first touch of light.
Metal, cushion, all hot to the touch.
Like my coins as I count how much.
I wonder
how the driver has not melted away
in front of the glass.
I squint and see the metro-inferno
outside: the people walk as if it’s not a hell-hole.
How could one endure sunburn’s gash,
white light,
biting anyone in its path.
Then I remember
days of rain and cloud,
when I prayed it was
burning in Davao.
Benjamin Thursday R. Rosaupan is a student studying AB English in Ateneo de Davao University.