tired feet and happy faces
of twelve hours labouring, conquered concrete pavements
admiration of deutsche bank spheroids and photographs
of all this doubled whites and icy frosting
quiet respite, tampered glass of elegant sinks

lunch at manhattan's market place, where we were singaporeans, dreaming
and wisps of pensiveness curled rising
slowly from the cordial close to heart, of aspiration

and to hug the breeze atop esplanade
fierce and free
watch the cloudless sky drift into its sunset glory
blanketed by pricks of green

hold me in limbo, this piece of remote heaven
where the wind brushes its caress of your face
and leaves its presence with a gentle kiss
fades into the night

all of this, gone the moment
silver panel doors shut in elevation.