It's raining, beebs,
and like I said in my message, it came on in speed and silence. And I walked, shoed, on the warm road until the lightning melted the anticipation and then: rain. ' ' ' ' ' The rain swept in on a Southern wind and, like your love, released the sweetest aromas, and - finally being in the right place, at the right time - I smell the honeysuckle mingling with sweet, freshly cut grass. It reminded me of you. Love reconstitutes what has been dry -- sometimes it's harmonious and dolce, other times it's pungent, like death on the city's wind. But today, and with you, I smell honeysuckle and fresh earth. With my naked feet on the warm, wet road, your love - now pounding and thundering - unmoors my heart and mingles tears in its powers. - Virginia, May 22nd 2018 // New York, July 12th 2018
2 Comments
|
Arch
|