i knew what was meant
by the dark the sky held;
how it dozed
in and out of consciousness,
frugal attempts of
harboring continuance.

it spoke a language
only known by itself.
but it heard our breaths,
and ached to understand.

we were dressed
in the copper glow of sunset,
immune to the taste of *****
as it swaddled our throats
with heat,
and our lips,
reeking with scent
from a strangers tongue,
would neglect our eager sentences,
begging to be told.

burdened in the dark,
the sky still felt,
still watched with vacancy,
as the children below
traced and counted its freckles;
and it felt
surely then,
all at once

that it started to rain

i knew what was meant
by the dampness the grass cradled
how it sunk into my skin,
sharp like blades,
frugal attempts of
harboring continuance.

it spoke a language
only known by itself
but it felt our skin,
and ached to understand