Poetry

After Midnight

by J. Salvador

The hours after twelve, taken down under oath. J. Salvador's second cycle timestamps the city nobody supervises — the empty jeepney upholstered in orange light, the refrigerator's one hymn, the drafts folder as the most honest room in the phone. Where Mga Liham sa Dilim wrote to the dark, After Midnight keeps its logbook: composed, polished, never sent. Kung nabasa mo ito — hindi ko sinend. That was the point.