Imagine Rain

March 16, 2008
By
the quiet light, so loud you could hear the ticking of the clocks
in your head
so soft, little rabbit fur footsteps brushing against your skin as you
breathe in
smelling so spicy, it gives off steam but is cold to touch
all the pitterpatter
of the rain on the roof so silent that your words run together
into nothing
you can almost taste the soft blue and green
splatter-painted on the dark asphalt
tonight
your window sliding up and you slipping out of it like liquid air
you run to the street still half full of sleep
it’s so loud you must strain to hear it as you smell the night
and watch the earth’s chest rise and fall slowly as it swallows the indulgence
and breathes out the ingenuity
you spend many minutes there,
swirling and whirling in the darkness, so early in the morning and so late at night
that there’s nothing but
black and white
the soft pitterpatter still ringing in your ears

and it is not until the next morning that you realize that it never rained at all
you only thought it did
you only heard it
you only
only.





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