I'm back:)
Without the cold caress
Of a breeze
On a wet cheek,
Without the dry echo
Of silence
On a warm couch,
We couldn't kiss or laugh.
Without the tail-chasing cycle
Of clothes
In the washing machine,
Without the mounting pile
Of papers
In the deskside bin,
We couldn't train or invent things.
![](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/364326011-288-k556218.jpg)
YOU ARE READING
Waiting for the Rain to Fall
PoetryPoems that twine thread around the broken bits of a soul, that fling umbrella lips into beaming buckets and kind of just make you want to say, "life is beautiful, isn't it?" - a totally unbiased review from me, the author.