When it rains, some people run a little
tucking sighs into their collars  
my knuckles tap lightly
on the backseat window
shattering a string of clammy
question marks
you said, we met too soon
before we’d learned how to love
and now I’m grinding restless days  
sharpening them into matchsticks
waiting for a sunny day
to strike some sparks
the rain, keeps stitching up fissures  
while the city slips and slides in puddles
our conversations hang  
like wet clothes dripping on the laundry line  
awaiting the next sun to dry and turn them into  
transparent answers.

dressed you for the rain
now this snow pelting pain
aww kid ! bad forecast

The moonlight
Lounges
Upon the petals of the rose hem
          and gaze

The same rainkissed melodies
Honey variations
Like rainbow roses
In the bouquets of your hair

We make them our own
Thats what maples
and Love would do
With its roses
and Sunflowers of longing
Through the midnight blue

Love within the mist
      of the spring air

The stars are glistening
At the depth
    of your Loves
   Iris Voluptuousness

Sometimes the Moonlight
Waltzes there
Where midnights
have become
Rose candle mornings

Reynaldo Casison

Then suddenly I’m hit by seasonal depression
The Type that dulls the sky and interactions
Makes you Observe the world with no question
clings on to you like second skin
Makes you go crazy and contemplate sin

Whatever you do nurtures these thoughts
Like our nature was to fear and hate
Consumed by everything , consumed by shame
a horrible game we’re fated to play

Can I hide myself ? Wait for the rain to be over ?
The umbrella still wets my clothes and damps my skin
I can’t take  the cold and I can’t take the heat
Everything I do seems to make me weak
Struggling with truth and make believe

As I stand beneath,
sky's embrace,
open arms,
claim me as its own.

each drop,
cold,
yet warmth blossom in me.

each raindrop,
feels as a caress,
a lover's kiss,
as it drenchs my soul.

Wash over me,
Rinse away the sin,
I don’t want to be this,
Tired of the running,
Hoping the light never touches,
But I can’t keep circling the drain,
Encased in shadows,
Deafened by the refrain
Of my own voice dithering,
Trailing off into a distance.

So wash over me,
Shower my life like a wet hug,
Acupuncture raindrops,
Stabbing all my demons,
Exorcising my inner heathen,
Wrapping me in with roses,
Thorns picking as the blood exposes,
Need for your healing waters,
Pouring from angel eyes,
Weeping for my soul,
Crash me down like Zeus,
Tell me I won a prize,
Reprieve for my sad life,
Singing truth from all the lies.

Wash over me,
Let my sweat bead away,
And the cold cause a shiver,
So I can shake off the pain,
I want to live again,
Grow in your garden,
A snake eater in a new Eden.

Like midnight rain
A fine wine woman
Singing
Spring Candles
Sighing with our love

Reynaldo Casison

Under the hush of midnight’s breath,
she walks—umbrella in hand,
not for the rain,
but to hold back the weight
of a thousand watching stars.

Constellations whisper
stories of love stitched in light,
but none are hers.
They shimmer like promises
just out of reach,
their glow a quiet ache.

Her heart, a silent ember,
burns beneath the ribs’ cage—
never flickering,
never fading,
only waiting.

She is flame wrapped in longing,
guarded not by stars,
nor shelter of hands—
but by solace,
the only canopy
that keeps her whole.

And still, she burns—
not wildly,
but patiently,
for the one soul
who'll one day walk
through galaxies
just to meet her


Erennwrites