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.