Pluviophile

The rain-lover speaks,
but not much so as he does
when he becomes a lover himself.
He transforms the rain into her lips -
each drop a taste of her -
and welcomes it all from the sky.
He opens his mouth, hoping to say something -
a half-forgotten promise, or a recurring regret,
but instead he lets his passion take over.
He imagines the raindrops are also his tears,
like how the rest of them think of it too,
but she is his, and that’s what makes him different.
He looks down and sees the puddle of rainwater,
and knows,
maybe this time, he’ll see himself in the rain.

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