It's raining, now.
No, not that kind of rain!
The one that spills shadows from the sky;
the one that pours slivers of steel into our hearts
and slices deep, deep, until we faint from hurt.
It's raining that rain that drops images images of you
cut against the vague, deserted buildings;
the one that makes the sloshing cars,
crawling up my street, ghosts coming and going,
possibilities of you...
It's raining the rain of an infinite sadness,
pain that obfuscates your smile and breathes despair
down my neck, my body and my soul.
It's that kind of rain that conceals lovers,
desires unfulfilled because your absence
is remedy for cure, where cure is unattainable.
It's raining hard, heavy, streets flood,
church towers grieve, and I stand in the rain
catching drops in my mouth,
hoping that one of them is you...
July 30/1AM/Jose Valduar
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