Saturday, October 31, 2009

like a ghost
i walk among the crowd
and hear words here and there
which don't register consciously

the comfort of this language
of this anonymous collective
of this fickle city i truly belong to
has an unsettling power of grabbing me
subconsciously
almost on the level of id

but tonight
the crowd, the words, the images
are passing through me
as if i am not there

as i fix my gaze over the city
slowly dipping herself into
the dark raising from the east
i am trying to listen what she says

i hear the murmur of evening rush hour:
cars, boat horns, street vendors
and hurried footsteps of people
rushing to the safety of
someone waiting somewhere

i hear rain tapping on my jacket
(i am not a ghost after all)

i am not afraid of rain anymore