the rain falls down from the heavens,
washes over his parked car,
where we are making love.
the windows are open,
and i can feel the cool drops
splash across my face.
i have never felt more beautiful,
or alive.
then i think about where rain comes from,
and suddenly i feel guilty.
i know i shouldn't be doing this before marriage,
but i don't understand,
how can something so wrong, feel so right?
i love him,
and he loves me.
so why does God say,
i can't make love,
in the rain,
before marriage?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem