You come to me quiet as rain not yet fallen
Afraid of how you might fail yourself your dress seven summers old is kept open
in memory of sex, smells warm, of boys,
and of the once long grass.
But we are colder now; we have not
Love's first magic here.
You come to me
Quiet as bulbs not yet broken
Out into sunlight.
The fear I see in your now lining face
Changes to puzzlement when my hands reach
For you as branches reach.
Your dress
Does not fall easily, nor does your body
Sing of it won accord.
What love added to
A common shape no longer seems a miracle.
You come to me with your age wrapped in excuses
And afraid of its silence.
Into the paradise our younger lives made of this bed and room
Has leaked the world and all its questioning
and now those shapes terrify us most
that remind us of our own.
Easier now
to check longings and sentiment,
to pretend not to care overmuch,
you look out across the years,
and you
come to me
quiet as the last of our senses closing.
Written by Brian Patten
(7 February 1946 / Liverpool / England)
Finally, another update, lol. Anyone still reads this book? :)
Happy weekend! I mend my heart within this update. Relationship sucks. 3years and it fell apart. Lol. Forgive my rants. Please enjoy the poem.
💜
Rain☔
(published on august24th, 2019)
