some rain.

as of late, like nearly half a year, sleep eludes me now during bus rides.
I only keep staring outside and my mind blurs like the scene passing outside.
like the road names, like the street signs, like the public schools devoid of children
like the rusty bucolic decadence of some homes and junk shops that appear out of the rural landscape
and like them, time also blurs and only the sun passing overhead will remind me of change.

on my way here to Manila, the rain fell, silent and secret at first
then like all eventualities, came and became;
and thus painted the bus window to translucency
but you were already on my mind long before I saw the grey clouds;
precursors of automatic remembrances and longing

since as of late, slumber has been replaced by something more important.
in between the rides and during the miles, sleep is a forgotten obsolete notion
when it concerns you and hurting for you.