She throws her head back in the rain to let
The drops fall on her face and closed eyes and
Perhaps to taste the storm upon her lips.
I love the rain; I've tossed my head back too
To dance in joy or perhaps to mask tears.
The rain can soothe distress or swell delight.
But no blithe smile crosses her mouth tonight,
And no wet spots but rain caress her cheeks.
A hollow pit's her stomach--or her soul.
Her eyes are opened and she shakes her head;
"It's too cold," she says, "cold tonight for rain."
There's no beauty in rain tonight for me.














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If today I love you, tomorrow I'll hate you, so where does that leave us yesterday?
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