Journey of love

Rain does not come very often
in these here parts
What we receive
is our fill
of the deluge
Or simple misting sprinkling
that lightly teases the cheek
taunts the eyelashes
makes them flutter in a girlish
way
As if to say,
See what I can do?

No, there is only the polarity
and the subtleties
Conjured by the mind
And left behind
Never chosen
Wistful, light, and pining
Cloying at the windowpane
As if to say,
Can I come in?

No, we rose above those greyish
clouds
Climbing higher
Precipitating precipitation
Beyond the reaches
of the cloying or the petty
And from our perches
We remembered what it's like
With skin moistened
and hair wet
Damp scalp
Struggling to catch our breath

Those gasps were not for naught
No, they told a pretty tale
of seduction and lust
But now, high up on the mountain
We wonder what was the worth
of sharing breath and losing it
Of throwing caution to the wind
Did we build upon those experiences
Or did we merely let them go
Let them condensate, gathering
momentum until they fell, like
one big, fat, drop.

Who's to say where we would
have gone had we lived in
the northwest, if all our
defenses were constantly wet
All we know up here is the
desert and the stars above
And we are thankful for
always having had
the choice to be in love