Raincoat
I wanted to touch your soul. I ditched the raincoat in hopes
I could graze your spirit and maybe touch the rainbow.
Maybe we could talk about experience and the things we
learned from the days in April. On how what we did here
is wrong and how any day in the Spring is potentially a
rainstorm.

I hear voices on my left shoulder leading me to my
approach.
Without shelter for the bad weather I still enter where I
shouldn’t, thirsty for the rage of the storm.
Noises of temptation drown what was once sober.
You are pure temptation, the serpent in the flesh.
Prior to my approach I believed there was no amount
of rain to calm your flames.
Once I received your touch I felt the marriage between
the warmth and the wet.
I felt the rage in the ways of the water.