2 July 2009

the words flying from your mouth are painting the sky with
endless imagery
blues oranges reds pinks
never purple
because you hate the way purple makes you feel

but then the rain comes
beating on your windows and doors
begging to be let in out of the chaos
and we open all your windows and doors
stamp our feet on the wet carpet
dancing in circles
realizing that summer rains cannot be beat
and should always be let in
when they knock so politely