people are packed closer here
but that means I can finally hear
the thumping of foreign hearts
as they jostle – collide, fumble – thrive,
and how wonderful it is to be able to breathe
as winter’s last bouts of rain
washes my deluded expectations clean.
(oh, and you know what?
I have begun to appreciate
my daily dose of intimacy
on crowded trams,
as they crawl up swanston street.)
there is more distance here
but the ones I love are forever intertwined
in the chords of my apple earphones.
I complain about 6pm traffic every day
and I do not remember when the rush hour noises
faded into a familiar hum.
As I watch purpose-filled businessmen
and teenagers with rose coloured dreams
roam our prison-bar shaped CBD,
they remind me of my mentor
and who I used to be.
Continue reading “Another Letter Home From Melbourne”