2001-10-26 - 3:23 p.m.
Like a child
Kept indoors by the rain.
Peering out through the glass panes,
Wondering why the streams of water always drizzle down at a slant.
The asphalt outside glistening in its hard-faced glory.
The greens weighed down with sky-blessed droplets.
I've almost forgotten why I used to love spring,
With its paradoxical brilliance, lack-lustre force.
These half-arsed showers always remind me of Singapore,
Come and go, leaving a putrid tail of migraines and cursed relief.
I would much rather like to call it home,
But I don't live there anymore.
I dreamt of it last night,
That I went back to my old block of flats,
To make amends and say sorry.
There was a strange old man with a ghostly toddler;
My abrupt repenting conscience,
And knocking on the wrong door on the wrong floor.
I really meant to ring your bell,
Although I had nothing to say.
Four flights of stairs above me,
I remember how you'd put *Life in Mono* on repeat while I was cleaning my room.
Bizarre things do happen don't they,
Time and place;
The quiet chase.
What the dream meant,
Something quite irreparable,
I'm afraid so.
