Memories of Rain

I lie on the bed,
staring into the ceiling.
Then I closed my eyes
and you walked into my head.

I look outside
Storm clouds are brewing,
thunder hammering through the sky.
Even as the thunder wails
I hear your whispers entreating me.
The lightning flashes,
illuminating the firmaments.
Is that you I see in the darkening clouds?

I step outside into the storm,
volley after volley of clear beads
disintegrating against my body.
I smell not the falling rain,
once my favourite smell.
It is your scent
that conquers my senses instead.

My lips are wet
from your kisses
I taste blood running onto my tongue
No...
I have bitten my own lips instead.

The wind-rain lashes
against everything it touches
like a whip tearing fresh wounds on naked flesh.
So many things it carries away
leaves, branches, a child's toy,
things that we leave behind.
Purifying, cleansing the streets
of what we have discarded.

But it cannot wash away
painful memories
stuck like daggers
in the empty chambers
of my soul.