In rainy countries he waits for the sunrise
because it reminds him of her
The book she loves
is in front of him
With stormy clouds above him
and moist dirt beneath his feet
he waits patiently
She was a memory, which way too long ago
had attached
She was a cold wind, which way to often
settled in his lungs
With a cup of black coffee in his hands
he waits for the moonlight
because it reminds him of her
Her moon-like eyes and milk white skin
How curious, he thought
Both, to be like the sun and the moon
But she was
And way too often he sat outside to see the sunrise
and remember her cheekbones
And way too often he sat outside to see the moon rise
And remember her knees
How curoius, he thought
Both, to be like the light and the dark
in a rainy country







to M.P & A.C