Monday, October 26, 2009

Once I yearned for you to come to me like wildflowers when the field needs it. Suddenly.
Come, love, like the sudden rain on on an unbearably sunny day.

Now, I ask the rain, could you not become him and arrive suddenly? We could be one, without warning, like the rain soaking my clothes and hanging from my hair.

Your phone keeps ringing. You don't answer your phone anymore.