As I sat upon the highest step observing the way
The rain mimicked my hands by running down every inch of your body
I sent infinite curses to the sky for allowing such a heinous act.
Though red with the rage of a thousand suns,
I still wondered,
Who did it better?
I, who ran my fingers along your curves
In the only way I knew
or the droplets,
That knew millions of ways of satisfaction
yet used only one?
Topic(s) of this poem: jealousy,past