3-26-15

Where are you, he asked into the
rain, crashing against him like a thousand
liquid stones-
where are you, he whispered into the night as
his words deftly weaved through the droplets,
cascading down like threads of crystal yarn-
his words met her mouth like a tempest,
words heaved heavily into the air, words that
crept as gently as frozen December breath-
she was lost, he realized
as she pressed close–
run to me when you are lost, he said, and
I will be your beacon in the night,
your end point, and your
starting line-
run to me when the world dilutes your
spirit,
and I will shield you from the storm…
yet stand with you in the rain*

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