I was thirteen, the world was young,
The night was light and so were your words,
Older by two years at least,
You were oddly serious – looking, and I was
Sitting there, across the room
Music played, I was my usual quiet self.
Just when I decided, sleep was better,
Than the noisy world, I saw your hand-
“May I have this dance?”
I stared appalled,
twenty-seven or more young lasses,
in front of you and I,
But it was my hand you held.
It was brief, our eyes never met,
I knew your name
and I was just as perplexed-
It meant nothing, I bet.
After a year,
The world took its turn,
I lived my life, slowly grew up.
I got a letter , asking how I was.
I wrote back, a friendly gesture,
“Hello, I said, nice to hear from you again.”
Three months later, without replies,
I learned, you passed away, at sixteen.
Maybe I will see you again, another time,
As a friend, a brother, another night,
Maybe we can have another dance,
For now, I leave you in God’s hands…
-To A Friend, Ariel Dioquino, may you rest in peace.