What the Rain Said

I wonder if you ever think about

our impromptu meeting in the rain.

Both of us hurrying,

as if we could outmaneuver the sky.

I heard somewhere that you stay drier if you walk through rainfall.

How silly.

We almost passed each other,

and perhaps we would have, had your shirt

not been stuck to the contours of your body

already familiar to my hands.

I recognized your shape in an instant.

We laughed, and you kissed me.

I tasted mint, salt, metal,

and the subtle bitter hint of our secret.

My thumb found my favorite place—

that soft space behind your jaw, just underneath your ear.

I could feel you smiling, your teeth clinking against mine.

We didn’t say a thing to each other,

because what is there to say when you know you are in love?

Except, perhaps, we should have spoken.

We parted.

You touched my face, and walked away.

The rain kept falling.

I never saw you again.