IL Pleut. (its raining)
i stumble along in its awning of bleak colors.
these rare moments i have to myself.
as the rain falls down.
i feel the heaviest of burdens being lifted from my weak shoulders.
i hear the unique rhythm as it falls to the already damp pavement.
i see the blossoms reaching their bright swollen petals to the sky, trying to soak up the sun.
i can smell the simple perfume of the rains as they fall.
it leaves behind a quiet singular stillness that makes breathing worth while.
Vous couper le souffle. (breathtaking)
the rain sings a classic song as the down pour slides over concrete and stone.
i stand, subdued by the enlightening beating of rain against my pale naked flesh.
i am carried away, as in rapture, with a tremendous emotion.
the rain is like my tears, loving and captivating.
Les larme. (tears)
the resonating sounds of the steady pulsation of the rain seem to chase my sanity away.
i lean into the breeze, catching the scent of something beautiful and unknown.
i hold up my hand to the faint light and watch the rays of it stream down between my lengthy fingers.
it touches me somewhere deep inside.
strikes a chord that allows me to deepen the penetration of my soul.
i yearn for it to heal my open wounds.
with that outstretched hand of cool warmth.
the feeling lingers somewhere in my loins.
this awesome breakage of my ultimate comprehension.
i no longer want to have it all make so much sense.
i want to be carried away by the palpating sense of insanity.
i have come to this place where my organic structure begins its demise.
a sensual route of understanding and reminiscing.
the rain bathes my pain, hungry for the memories of lost flesh.
we entangle ourselves, wistfully, in an embrace of aching significance.
it symbolizes my empty essence willing to encompass the nucleus of my own understanding.
wherever i happen to be, is where i am living, embracing, and opening.
it is where i make love to the memory of something more phenomenal.
something i can't even recall to put a name to.
it is there inside of me, hovering over my existence like a cloud about to burst.
the rain, falls along the dampened creases in my arms and wetting down my hair.
it fills the crevices in my body until the emotional desire for release rents apart my existing physical structure and i collapse upon the hard distant asphalt with nothing in my way.
IL Pleut. Yes. it rains.
omg. this is so emotional for me, even though i wrote it last year.
does anyone have comments?