Paint my canvas in concrete reflections
Wetting my world with a crisp mist,
this wanted moisture,
I'm steeped in it, it's exhaustive
Yet I don't want this to be over.
Suddenly the familiar trees,
the redwoods parsedlly populating my campus
they become haunting,
their height, intimidating
they remind me of of their force through droplets
on my body, they're creating a havoc of my feelings.
My walk, unsheltered to feel each spray
It's in slow motion, my drenched gait
Hair tangled in dews, eyelids braving each drop
I can feel it striping me slowly
From random dirt, from make up, from chin to shirt
(I'm audibly wishing this won't stop)
Forget singing in the rain, I'm skipping to class
I'm dancing almost, just to avoid the puddles.
Forget walking under an umbrella, to be
soaked in this fickle weather, between these two worlds.
The one I'm forced in vs. the one I'm soaked in.
Sliding circular bits of moisture on my bare skin.
My guilty pleasure lies in,
these ubiquitous hypnotic reflections.