Simplicity of Us

There is something about the rain
falling hard, then soft
upon waiting green.

Tangled in the covers,
and wrapped in you,
those soft whispers of yours
echo raindrops on the window pane
and in the pail we set out
catching purity
to revive frail blossoms.

Scents from the kitchen waft gently
and awaken those sleepy eyes
like midnight coffee
catching the attention of my unpredictable,
sometimes wavering muse.

We never minded the gray
or a few nights without stars
because the blue green of my gaze
into your pools of brown
make our own light.

The simplicity of us
looks deeper from the inside
since such closeness between spirits
is unmatched in most galaxies.

I love how rain blooms soft silhouettes
before we fall down to sleep;
silken feelings pressed between pages
waking to perfect new petals
with every broken dawn.



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