the rain taps against the chrysanthemum glass of my window, its tantalizing fingers so close, yet just too far. the raindrops pool against the clear crystal, stringing themselves into cacophonies of melody, of song.
the rain longs for time, for a companion to welcome the songs in which it croons.
the rain taps against the chrysanthemum glass of my window, asking if it may sing in my ear until i am lulled to sleep.
i wish the rain was you.
YOU ARE READING
corazón sangrando
Poesíaquiero hacer conmigo lo que primavera hace con los cerezos.
