It was May and I was drunk,
The rain pouring heavily from the heavens,
And the birthday balloons that once hung around the tent were now all gone,
The early morning hours setting in.
I sat under the porch light for a few moments letting a man I had only met a few hours before light my cigarette and tell me about religion until I drifted into a lawn chair and let the skies drench me.
He was saying something about me looking like Lana Del Rey,
And finding his way out of a five year prison sentence,
How we can be both good and bad at the same time, but urge to be bad is sometimes hard to control.
And he was right, so I listened.
"You should come back over here, you're going to get sick sitting out there that soaking wet."
"Am I really that wet?"
I didn't even notice.
He grabbed my hands and held them tightly for a few moments before kissing my mouth.
Still holding me tightly, he swung us back into the rain,
Dancing slow and soft,
Like I imagined at a 1950's prom.
To the rain on the wood porch,
To the rhythm of soft shared breaths.
But dancing turns into desire,
No matter how sweet it is.
I was ****** against the side of the house and kissed deeply,
And I was happy.
He took off his shirt,
Which was followed by mine,
And broke my favorite bra in a fit of passion,
Until we were both naked in the rain,
Laughing.
He took moments to tell me how beautiful I was,
How intelligently I spoke,
How rare I was,
All while the others slept.
I think I fell in love with that one a little bit.