I’m sure the rain is here to stay
And so I’m going to have to say
That raindrops above my head at night
Can lull me fast asleep
But wet socks and damp towels
Don’t please me much at all
And humidity that makes my skin crawl
I’m not too partial for.
I believed just so strongly that you would be the one
So much so that I chairiscuro’d my heart into day and night,
Night and day.
So longing with my open arms I stood uninterested,
Drooping at edges of my sanity
That left holes so deeply imprinted into my unknown matter
I had successfully reprinted what I’d callously called
“Out of Stock.”
Now? Now I would like to re-brand my interests,
Remove all the old artifacts that so delicately had collected
Dusty particles of my memory,
And remind myself how little it mattered in the end –
Dust being all that could sprinkle our dearest dreams –
As raindrops came tumbling down upon a rainbow I’d ignited.
So my desert teardrops exclaimed to my heartbeat, strong,
Oh this desperado desolato,
In an anguish that I could not anticipate…
Because spring had not yet sprung.
I hung onto raindrops
That caressed a blurry,
Single paned window
Sitting empty in a dusty house,
Too tall for company.
I flicked white paint
Peeling along the border,
Imagining my memory
Washed away by a doorbell
That signalled good news.
Of course, a dream
For never has a swan been seen
Basking among scarred lands:
Desolate trees with
Children’s toys scattered,
Left behind in a moments rush
Towards a meaning to all this silence.
Sweet romantic raindrops held out their hands
For my memories and heart splashes.
But I’ve already paid for the month,
I brought my warm sweater;
I’ve come for the show.
Two ladies danced into the night,
Slow waltzes around and around
As I sketched out the scene with dirty charcoal.
Hands in the air and sing out the song,
Pale spotlight in a smokey saloon.
Memories found in the smell of your skin;
I’m the glass biting straw.
I’d be inward as you shone on pretty;
A spin and a twirl just as high as I remember.
Wondering as I do, as I move close to see.
Like your arms always tingle in the end:
I’ve found the way to get through the day,
And light crawls through the room.
Breath upon my neck is a happiness I’ve been warned,
Just a slip away is all I’m left to pray.
For today the brownstone soldiers lapping my wake
Share the dominant raindrops I’ve just escaped.