Water Cycle (Or How We Didn’t Stay)

“And rain remembers nothing, not even how it became itself.”

Las Ruinas del Corazon by Eric Gamalinda

We are droplets of rain,
you and I,
falling on the flooded streets
of España, Sampaloc, 
Manila. One 

With the south west monsoon.
Tailgating the bravado of heaving 
heavy hearted 
Habagat. 

We float along the canals.
Rushing towards the cusp
where air and drainage meet.

Soon, when the rain stops falling
we will find ourselves floating
in the sewers along 

with other pieces of left over.
But to this, we will not feel sad:
We are droplets of rain,
you and I, 
and we are happy with everything
we touch, for alas we experience

to be one 

with everything we touch.
Soon, 
we’ll be one with the air
as the setting sun 
evaporates us. And this time,
perhaps 
maybe this time, 

we will re-member. ()

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