remembered rain

remembered rain
fall in a mix
behind my eyes,
before my eyes…
they blend
like past does with the present

i think strange thoughts
which are normal
– for me –

there is no such thing as good,
there is bad
and there is
the good bound to be turned bad
like fresh bananas hung
on a warm and humid day;
while i,
i sit within
the eye of it all
watching it spin around
and away,

the rain continues
thinking it helps
to water the world,
to keep it alive
like an intravenous drip…

drip, drip, drip

every drop prolonging the end,
the great and drying finality,
but for now –
it rains
cool and wet upon my feet
stretched out to receive this small baptism,
this sacred ablution
to clean away the filth
i have walked in
all these years

how much rain is there?

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