By gnomey
Date: 17 August 1999

for now the rain.

down
> my face. slowing it trail as it slides carelessly to my chin.  My tongue
> quickly flicks out to retrieve it before it falls.  blinking my eyes in
> defense as the rains assault quickens.  I squint against the coming
> darkness, my pupils grow larger searching for more corners of light.  I
> raise my arms in the wind, reaching for those raindrops that have yet to
> reach me.  Closing my hands over the air that contains these little
jewels
> i can't hold onto.  Save for a mere second.  I open my mouth then close
it
> letting thoughts race in and out of my mind.......not being able to
> penetrate what the real thought is.  But as long as i can try to hold
onto
> the rain, i don't need anymore thoughts.  The thoughts splash away with
> each raindrop i can't grab hold of.  I hang my head wanting the coolness
of
> the rain on my neck.  To fall down and caress my heated body and mind,
> nature being the only coolness my skin will accept.  It hurts to open my
> eyes now, only blue shadows show when i open them, lending me a glimpse
of
> our world for a moment that i can only see in my dreams.  I close my eyes
> again prefering my passing black and orange clouds behind my eye lids,
> believing them more then the rain for a moment.  But then i feel the rain
> tracing its way down my body again.  The rain memorizing my countours,
> knowing me more intimately then any human hand ever could.  The rain
> becomes my lover.  It kisses my lips, tickles my tongue, teasing it,
> wanting to be tasted.  I open my mouth and invite its kisses in.  For
these
> tiny droplets to be human.......for these tiny droplets to be a form of
> humanity that we can only discover in the night......and to know this
rain
> the way we know each other. That with each drop a piece of me is
> released........and another piece made whole again.....my lover in the
> rain, my lover in the clouds.  Passing as quickly into sunshine as my
> passion.  Releasing itself in the rain, my passion is the rain, my love
the
> thunder, and my pain the streaking white lightning.  We are these little
> raindrops.  We are the passing storms, we are the lovers that we seek in
> the night.  Who would be a better lover to anyone but yourself?  Who
knows
> your own curves who knows the sounds of your body who knows your smell,
> those secret little smells..........the smell of the morning, the smell
of
> the midafternoons sweat.....We are the lovers we reach out for in the
> middle of the night to touch our own  bodies.  As we arch our bodies
toward
> our own touch, we hear our own thoughts in the night.  i would have the
> perfect dream lover in myself if i could kiss my own lips.  If i could
hold
> my own body tightly, if i could feel my arms curl around myself as i
> sleep.......but for now........theres the rain.
>