Wet Diaries

The urban facade
accumulating itself,
With arms wide open
Rises for a bath.

The zenith has turned darker,
I can see the warmth terminate
It is raining.

Wet walls,
Rains dripping from tin roofs
Like crystal beads,
How I imagined,
They fall only for you
to fill your palms with
Waterly love,
To sprinkle back on my face
With softer giggles
that you leave behind,
for me to admire.

I will look for you again,
Like you do for me(perhaps)
through half-drawn curtains
And in the telepathy of our eyes,
We will talk,
unseen and unheard,
Unfelt and untouched.

Everywhere showering,
Euphony of love.
Of wet love,
That stands testimony
Of what there was
That now nowhere remains.

They have pulsed by,
Cleaning your stone.

We welcome your comments at letters@friedeye.com