The Prophecy of Rain – A Poem

If we could disguise our minds
crimson dark and rest under
the emotional imbalance it
may afford, what then?

And what now?

I don’t bring salvation. Only
interruptions between waves
of seclusion.

Bring us together.

Where white streets bleed into
the yellow sky
I overhear a lover’s confession, shared
tenderly, secretly on
angels breath, and feel my flesh crawl.

The prophecy of rain beats into us. It’s
life attested. A crawling illusion
of self
sundered, seeping into cracks
of adopted skin.

Electric winds blow.

Trace lines of communication. To
remain oblivious, we speak.
Words desperately littered into instruments
of our own abandonment. But


let’s go. Let’s watch as the oregano blooms
in the garden.
Our feet cooled by bare stones.


6 thoughts on “The Prophecy of Rain – A Poem

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