Deserters
Rain whispers suddenly when you
least expect it - moving on
impartially, everybody’s friend.
I’ll take it all in step, let it
strike my skin and listen to its
insinuating hushed hiss as
It muddies the miles between us,
commingling distance and longing.
The odd, anonymous raindrop
Absconds from the crowd, to
implode in disconsolate solo.
I’ll get used to missing you.
Page(s) 8
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