The Rain Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

Often times,
I feel like I am a rain drop
Crystalline, upon your forehead
I could never reach your bed,
Your bedposts and your headboards
But when I trickle down your
Windows,
It’s as if you bathe
In the poignancy
Of what I am:
A rain drop.

And of course,
I will rummage like that
Drink you pour upon New Year’s Eve
Or Christmas
And even in the white room
Of making love,
I will be ubiquitous for
I am still behind the shades.

And when I am gone,
I will not quickly fade
For I will etch my scent
Upon your nose,
Your being,
Your soul
Until you wait for me again,
Hapless, rain-drinker.

If you love me so much
Then why did you let
Me slither one by one
Until my crystal life has been
Extinguished by the Sun?

And like love,
Hate
Or hope
You cannot exhaust me
I only take intervals
So you would look for me
In the drought of your heart.
I am rain,
And rain I shall remain
For in the hours
Of the burning summer,

You lurk and hunt
For the soft rain’s kiss.
Will you ever tire of the rain?
Maybe so,
When you are old
Decrepit and cold
Inside your own skin,

But I will never grow
Tired of cascading
Down your windows
Just to remind you of
How enamored you were
To me
During the years
Of your singeing heart.