A Prayer for Rain
Let it come down: these thicknesses of airhave long enough walled love away from love;stillness has hardened until words despairof their high leaps and kisses shut themselvesback into wishing. Crippled lovers lieagainst a weather which holds out on them,waiting, awaiting some shrill sign, some cry,some screaming cat that smells a sacrificeand spells them thunder. Start the mumbling lips,syllable by monotonous syllable,that wash away the sullen griefs of loveand drown out knowledge of an ancient war—o, ill-willed dark, give with the sound of rain,let love be brought to ignorance again.
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