Porous Heart

Looking out of the window, far in the grey haze of evening, rising over the horizon like a soft trail of mountains is a dark sheath of pregnant clouds. Winds hauling it over the city, stretches over cramped buildings and rumblings roads like an immense umbrella of smoke, as I watch the monsoon pull over. It reminds me of the porous roof overhead. How it had been like that since many seasons now. One that I still haven’t got in a mason for, not chosen...