as you pass through the curtain of rain
and the tendrils of cold, cold wetness
travel down the lines of your face
i submit myself to your gravity
what force tethers me to your orbit?
by what strangeness do i cling to?
what nameless promise was made
keeping me from unloving you?
there should have been no rain that day
and neither ‘here’ nor ‘now’ should exist
as you wrap your arms around me
the sun burns silently, constantly
but its warmth is empty, empty, empty.
(for r.)
