Ah, my knuckles are ******-
The rain sweeps by,
Chilling but it warms the air,
Washing away these light marks.
There's an imprint of something delightful,
Burning a path from my forehead to my lips.
Reality focuses in the alley lights,
Fading if I only keep my eyes on the pavement.

Right in the thick of it-
I relish in space, peace.
One of a kind,
It tastes, smells, feels grand.
Yet I can't ever see it.
In the wind,
It numbs me,
Nimbly dancing over my nose,
I shiver and lick the drip that falls to my tongue.

Nightfall tastes like rain in a river,
I revel in an isolated silence,
I hear this ringing tune,
Audible to only me.
My voice, however, resounds-
Crossing the patchy grass,
It weaves under the city track.

Darker, its louder.
Blending against the smooth grain,
Only when it quiets do I hear past.
It's a calm journey in my car,
Sights are beautified,
Aesthetic, glorified.
Tired?
Let's rest by the roadside,
Time won't slow,
But when dawn arrives,
So will a fresh mind.