if a clouds’ tears were to pummel away at the pane of my bedroom window any time before then, i would’ve impetuously disregarded its entire existence and drifted to sleep only to dream about festering psychedelic abstracts.
that wasn’t the case, though, not that night.
rain fell in pounds from the leaden sky and the only thought i could conjure
was you
you were a thousand miles away, but every rain drop that danced leisurely down the glass, just inches from my face, felt like they could be you
they embodied the fluidity of your mind
i felt like it was
you
so much so that i wished i could leap out to lay out on my roof top and soak up every droplet till my body became an ocean
if it meant i were to finally feel you
because you are nothing short of
a comforting scent
a song
a dream or even
a poem
so when you finally do become tangible
in my arms
it will be reminiscent of smelling a rose or a daffodil
or the way a song makes you feel
or the mood a poem can bestow upon you
and the imagery it engraves into your skull
you shall embody that which cannot be felt by bare palms and indefinitely more