We, the rain!

Remember?

The last time it rained

We were conversing

with our bodies;

You inhaled me as you would draw

the last puff from a cigarette.

Wasn’t the ambience just perfect then?

A festoon of wild flowers,

scent of

pure tea tree oil and

a handmade paper,

red and yellow leaves pressed hard on it.

We spoke of umbrellas,

children walking in gangs

and

our lost lovers. (I was afraid

of this one too)

A drip of memories

drenched in desire;

We

spoke:

wet corridors

slithering steps

our feet together.

Remember?

Last time when it rained

It poured on us,

Kisses and moans.