i. sunlight seeping in borrows a rosy hue from tinted window glass, dancing off your tousled hair.
ii. the stereo murmurs a dull synth-pop tune to colour the silence, inside the lines.
iii. buildings we pass melt into a nondescript blur, like abstractions of ink on a drenched book.
iv. the weight of my baggage surrenders to the one tugging at my chest. i know i am not half-dreaming.
v. there’s only so much i can read from the back of your neck, like newspapers shrouded by the dark of morning.
iv. you mean so many things to me, things no tongue could explain. not even to myself.
iii. this silence amidst noise is killing me. i would rather burst into a rhapsodic wail, out of tune.
ii. this moment will not yield to captivity. like a firefly in a jar, the only glow i see is put out by the last breath of a dying dream.
i. heart and soul, mind and soul, maybe it’s time to let this firefly go?