She loved the rains not because the rain make the lights bleed but because when it rains she could see her black and white past in colors again. She loved the rains not because the rain sails the little child's dream but because when it rains, it brings all her broken dreams to life again. She loves the rain not because the rain makes the dead trees look alive but because the rains could make her lost old soul refresh again. She loves the rains because the rain brings back the ocean of memories, memories of him, that come to her like the rains to the thirsty ground. She loves the rain because it reminds her of his touch, the touch ever so gentl with each drop covering the ground with it's smell. And she loves the rain. She loves them because he was the rain to her arid earth.
