thoughts on longing

we could smell the rain but we couldn’t have it.
this reminds me of
a word itself so drawn out and heavy on the tongue
as to torture slowly like
salt water to a thirsty man or better yet
a leaf, turned on by fall and full of impetuousness,
flying high and hitting mud.
how when we daydream of rain,
we get to wear colorful boots and umbrellas and songs.

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