I'll let it permeate my parched skin.
Tear shapes hitting my scalp,
running down my forehead and my cheeks. 
Sliding down my neck, past my collar bone; down my shirt. 
Down 
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;down 
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;down. 
Finally, down feels *right* instead of *wrong*. 
"What's up?"
"Wishing for Something Good."
Can I taste the wetness?
Dropafterdrop [count: thirtyone] I'll let hit my tongue. 
Sizzling and hissing upon contact with my desertdry body until I am drenched [and cooled off]..
Dayafterday [count: thirtyone] I've waited for Something Good. 
*THIS* is Something Good.