Rain dance

Too bad rain can’t wash away
tears you’ve never cried.
Little drops
dripping from your hair
and running down your face,
that was the closest you’ve ever been
to crying.
The moment it occurred to you
that tears could help your eyes
get rid of that image,
it had been traveling for years
through untraceable paths
of your being.
Rain can’t rehydrate words
that never dared to face the wind.
Rain doesn’t give a shit about you.
Still, you make your stupid little dance,
with paint on your face and everything.
You dance around imaginary fire,
as if you were able to start one.
Stupid little you,
the rumble of your steps shook the sky,
and part of it fell down with the rain
to touch the Earth.

2017-07-09T01:06:04+00:00 Categories: Poetry|Tags: , |