At each calm after storm…

Rainwater turns to vapour in no particular order,
Mixing moisture, forming cloud, to wash the earth in new vigour.

And so alike,

My mind drinks the memories reined by thee,
And at night they turn to dream clouds atop my sleep,
Watching, that I rise each morning a new you mixed with me.

I shower myself each and every day until next to dawn
Then lay by you turning vapour to your soft speech and yawns.