the rain comes and washes everything clean. even the sooty disaster of the city looks new and pastel as I drive in today....it's a rain made for lovers - slow and silky against the skin.
I saw lovers walking without and umbrella to get pancakes. as she carefully avoided the mud puddles, he laughed and tugged at her hand. his shirt was plastered against his chest and the carefully cut shaggy do was hanging in brown cords against his neck. his voice was playful and deep. she was more timid and unsure - careful in her pink chucks. head ducked and watched where she was going....but following regardless. all seemed good in the world at that moment. the rain fell and I wondered if it would feel the same to me.