The rain is sweet and soft
And streaming
Over the skinfilm of my eyelids.
Drops confuse themselves
Amidst each other
In tears and monsoon-water.
I remain shut-eyed,
Ever-consoled by the fluid of my season.
Fluid of my Season – Bombay, April 2003
The rain is sweet and soft
And streaming
Over the skinfilm of my eyelids.
Drops confuse themselves
Amidst each other
In tears and monsoon-water.
I remain shut-eyed,
Ever-consoled by the fluid of my season.
this calmed me and saddened me and i can’t stop reading these words, over and over. this struck a chord.
i think i smell rain. in the desert.
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