If you kiss me, I will listen.
Questions, like fat raindrops, fall around me. They land hard, with no answers.
The questions that I have for you lay in wait on my tongue. And they taste as a bitter lemon.
The night is hot and humid. It is summer.
It is marvelous because of its intensity but also dangerous because it will end abruptly.
Everything reminds me of you. I keep my thoughts to myself.
I’m unsentimental because I despise the rain. So I am suspended in time.
Is this majestic simplicity or a complete misunderstanding?
The drip drop of fiction and fact has drenched my reality. I curse my mind for needing a large umbrella.
When the rain stops, I will find you.
And if you kiss me, I will listen.