Words Unsent: I Miss You

— A poem of longing

Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash

It is, raining, again.

No, my rain is unfathomable;
My rain is different from your rain
Mine has dry cements,
With leaves on the ground.

My rain has no clouds;
But only thunders sprung out of Zeus
With might ought to destroy.

My rain has no water;
But rather, emotions,
Flowing, scattering, floating.

My rain has words,
Dropping from the sky,
Damping on my cheek,
Slipping on my chin.

Those words become river
Streaming into that stone;
Into that heart
It ain’t fragile;
It’s solid, with no opening,
Where love can enter.

It is raining, of words,
On my cheek, on my chin,
In my heart,
They dropped:
On the dry cement.

These words are marked,
“I miss you.”