On rainy days I’m listless
and wrapped in a blanket I stare
out into the eyes of the vacant sky
the puddles ripple and the wind
she dances by,
brushing my lips with a subtle kiss,
a secret mischief, a certain aftertaste

On rainy days I’m meaningless,
I sip my tea, and count the days
I contemplate the rainy haze
and when there is a sudden chill,
a wandering reverie knocks at my door
she knocks twice-oh, she knocks once more

Her name is you, her face is you
she twirls for me: her dress is you
She laughs with me
so I presume
her tender neck, it’s your perfume

It’s just a thought - a hollow dream
but I think of you to some extreme
Before the clouds are satisfied,
then
they step aside for a new sky

And promises of novel dreams
New hands to hold, new lips to kiss



Featured Photo by Johannes Plenio from Pexels_
Written during the Corona Quarantine