Its when it rains hard like this that

I like to see myself dripping.

Standing in the shower, under the
shower that has no control knob.
Spilling over my soaking skin,
my hair is mussed and lenthed
and silkened as they blend with
sreams of water
My eyes close and my arms raise
themselves, feeling more of the
downpour against my dripping body
The colour of the sky is darker than
the night,
the air is slightly purple and not a
star in sight.
I ponder if its a faraway moon
that watches me,
washing, bathing and frolicking in
the rain
close to my skin, a lazy breeze is
blowing
ripples of goosebumps,
still I want the dripping wet.
Cold at the top of my head,
warm at my feet,
the flow of water along my skin
is the touch of an angel,
it's feathers
falling like fatter drops on my eyes
or lips,
I imprint this feeling into the
deepest reserve of my mind
to recall upon
when my body is dry and barren in

the summer heat.
And the Thunder above has spoken

it's prayer.
He has cast his spell
and more angels bless my skin
as they meet the ground below.
The ground is wet, living, flowing
with the steady addition
of the endless water from above.


Slowly I open my eyes as
everything calms.
Drops of water untagle and drip
from my long hair into the puddles
around me
rippling the happy feeling inside.
A warmth that ripples,
the purity of the soul,
is by the second
increasing.