Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Rain


People were dry and I was wet
Walking down the streets with myself as my own lover;
They were empty and I was full
Of water, of water, of water.
People call this Madam-Monsieur weather
I call it stupid rain
For it doesn't know on whom to fall
On me
Or on those who take out their umbrellas
Wishing the trees be thirsty again.

 

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