finding things I thought I have lost.

It's the first of December and it's the coming new year that I can smell like Styrofoam and uncertainty, biting and unnatural. After today things will have that hazy quality again, like the fringes of a dream you're trying to remember. The last month of the year is a slow fade for me and when I go to Baguio the cold will keep me warm again. The rains there are colder; much, much colder but it can only make me remember and make me much closer to you; and together we will burn brighter in the cold, in a quiet rage of color and passion.

I looked back at the past few months and already they have taken a dreamy quality of their own, a veiled realness that only we know like small children coming across a secret place of their own. I find you in my mind again, as I find myself in yours, smiling and holding moist hands again, waiting for this new month to kiss us, lovers stumbling upon each other.