we could smell the rain but we couldn’t have it.
this reminds me of
longing.
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.
thoughts on longing
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