a long time coming.

I have watched more than a dozen rains fall and then dry out since, and me even hoping for rain in between. It is still Manila, changing and unchanging, wondering how many lives since then have met, went together or went astray in between those downpours. Friendships and romances, little passions shivering in the strangeness of these cities that is Manila. Some flames spluttering and going out in the cold to black embers hoping for some warmth and raging against the chill, most often ultimately dying. Then there are some passions that burn bright enough for others to read their stories in the dark.

Been home and back again, so much promise there and me wanting only to stay, to hear stories being told instead of me telling them, except when Rain asks me to tell her stories about dragons and their breath of flames. Been home and we burned three nice lovely flames, our own fireplace for warmth against the cold of unexpected downpours. Had to leave again and leave only with the memory of their eyes, warm and expectant for another return. Going back here, I can only burn, and burn still.

Here in Manila I have to cradle my thoughts like babies, the unwritten and the untold for this place is no refuge. And thoughts only find refuge with their own kind, I think sometimes this is the reason for some fortunate lives meeting and melding together and finding solace in each other's thoughts and burn their own kind of flame. We can only hope their flames burn steady and brighter, in whatever shade of passion.