Nimbostratus

Nimbostratus Mood

Precipitous cleanser, soak soiled sow. Stride the streets as torrential streaks run down.

Rivulets wriggled initially, trickle internally, seeping through seems and trims. Buttons and zips, ingress.

Beads building in collar bone indents, that flood off in sheets. It’s freezing reliefs conceit.

Depending on density, one hundred percentile, soaked to my skin-suit, walking the promenade, when everyone dreams.

This spiders web-shy, as drops pound from the skies. Intrepid, but stupid, intelligence throws me. Cretinous casualties litter my past, you see.

I’ve learned to avoid, (as hail) but only a ploy, to loosen their hold. To wrap them, entirely in threads of pure gold. Restricts breath, never the less. I nod to duress. Learning redress.

Pouch pockets like craters, my silken creation. The fear of drowning, overcome by the purest pleasure of saturation.

Condensing from colloids, hung weightless. Opacity log, drenched in fog.

This, pretence, my favourite chance. Luxurious magnificent, the dew point, turning clear to blue. As inflationists feel, I also concur. Exponentially real as rain starts to pour.

The heave from my lungs, running, wetter. Clothes get heavy. Discomfort mass, stiffer when soaked. My subconscious provoked. Falling down.

Rising cumulonimbus. Feeling more animal, shed the pretences.

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Precipitation