Spring rain makes puddles of my love

upon the grass.

We tumble and roll

and let go of any fucks given

about ideas of dry, huddled

in clumps under awnings and umbrellas.

I wrap my arms around you because I want to

and surprised, you smile.

I clamber to the top of a dripping tree

and looking out I cannot see you.

But climb down and find

you've found your own tree.

Thunder makes loud my heart

that aches for lightning.

Electrify me and teach me how to live.

Bare toes slosh down wet pavement home

and you away to yours.

Tomorrow is the last day I will see you

before I fly away across the world.

And when I come back,

who knows if I'll still love you?

But now as spring rain drips from my hair

and clothes hang wet and heavy,

and I imagine yours hung next to them,

you in borrowed sweatpants.

I never got to kiss you.

My love pools in puddles on the ground

and your feet splash through them

but do not pause.