Over a few crusty plates on the sink
in a tub of soapy water, I wish
and pretend the world
is mine. Over this brief respite, my life
belongs to me. All of a sudden, I remember
ambitions. I remember how to dream,
in the last light before all becomes dark again.
I remember how my hands
are capable of transformations. All
of a sudden, I have with me things
that would know desire to be saved. All
of a sudden, I become my own god
and all the ones that are drowning,
I give breath, lift them to the light,
and see them spotless.
In strict successive suddens,
I learn to leave my stale morose grain
by softened grain at the maw
of the poor, hungry drain. I rinse
my hands until the last grime disappears
in its appetite. Then the kitchen is dark again,
and I remember nothing in the morning.
James Bryan Delgado was a fellow of the 2018 ADDU Summer Writers Workshop and the 2025 Davao Writers Workshop.