Softly fell the rain that day,
Like kitten's fur and satin.
It stroked and brushed but never touched.
It was there, but not really.
She loved the Rain,
She'd always loved him.
He was the one she connected with
The soul she saw hers in.
The Rain loved her too,
But his words were mere sounds to her.
The patter of raindrops the rumble of thunder-
A language she couldn't comprehend.
The creeper of life needs a solid post.
Fluid torrents flowed away.
She pined for the Rain,
But he couldn't be there.Not really.
Harsh as the crack of a whip
It rained that day.
Like stones and needles.
Piercing and hurting- tangible distress.
She stood on the edge and welcomed Him
And the Rain shot out a silver finger
And carried her away with him.
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