12:54

12:54 PM
Sunday
Inky black sky illuminated by a great fire in one area in Manila
27   ˚C⎜ ˚F
Precipitation: 10%
Humidity: 77%
Wind: 0 km/h


And the city with a foreign new monsoon
Licks everything with its tongue
With souls like phantoms
Haunting the streets
Burdened with feelings
With hands in their pockets
Or with their eyes empty
The night gives in
Corrodes into history
Little emotions evaporating
Condensing into dews
Off to the urban sewerage 
Hoping for absolution
Maybe a vindication
As it flows into the feet
A froth for a blanket
Into the navel and bed
Of an ocean somewhere.