It Rains

It rains.
In beads held captive on
a sweaty brow, meandering
between hesitant creases.

It rains.
In drops trickling down
dimpled cheeks, tripping
over murmuring lips.

It rains.
In streams forming at
the corner of eyes, awash
with new born hope.

It rains.
In puddles splashed over
a pristine white, stained
with muddy expectations.

It rains.
In sheets of a sky washed
breathless face, gulping
in the sound of your name.

It rains.

It rains.

It pours.

It tickles, trickles and washes over.
It batters, and soothes and drowns,
It chokes, it chides, it chastises,
It plays, it pricks, it pleasures.

It rains.