Did I ever think of sex when I write about the rain?

Wading through the rain, naked, and letting the rain fall
On my mouth as I look up to the cloudy skies where the sun
And the moon are missing, drinking the raindrops and letting
My hair go wet and flowing all over my body, walking through
The middle of the road where the waters are deep and cold

On the other side, you wait for me, your arms extending
You look into my glistening eyes, you hold my hand and
You embrace my shivering body, you take me inside your room
You wipe me with your dry towel and serve me tea and give me
The needed company, this misery, this rain crying on the roof

You wrap my body with your arms, you dress me up with your
Oversized shirt and let me wear your worn out blue jeans
We talk a while, you explain something, in truth, we simply
Talk and talk, and when the rain stops, you ask me to leave.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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