I love the rain.
Each drop is a promise made and kept,
Whispered into the air for all to hear:

F
  A
L
   L

Slay the dragon;
The unkindness of the heart,
That whispers in the late of night
Of all your dreams gone dark.

For why would I be aught but myself?

Dost the eagle swim?
Dost the whale totter?

Forsooth, I am Man.
Forsooth, I am-

-bickering teeth and a tongue too glib.
-fond, warm eyes, ready to jig.
-gentle songs on a summer's day.
-a hearty breakup just before May.
-the roar of ice, crackled by heat.
-a fiery shout, far from replete.
-passion stopped by unsought sound.
-my own demise, far from profound.

Indeed I am, all this and more,
I swear to me, I swear quite sure.

I am the wound - bitterness given a tongue and ten fingers.
Each bone made for breaking - I am bloodless regret.
Sour breath like scorched sunshine - I have never known the gentle touch;
bruises litter my tapestry.

I am-
-the boy three streets down.
-the sister upstairs.
-the father in his dreams, the mother's living nightmare.

The dark is not afraid of light-
-how could it be, of the brilliant bright?
That simmering softness and lilting sun,
Which brims with fun, and fulsome love.

Revolution and sleep, the dark welcomes both,
The light is its break,
Its innermost hope.

I am,
Or so I thought,
Until you walked and talked,
Bearing an old hat that smelled of forest pine.
All the nasty things I thought,
From then on,
I was.