Wet Silk

The rain falls,
“Ting…ting… ting.”
Breaking the silence
That unheard symphony
That behind her lips, she sings.
Breaking the silhouette
That covers her shape
Making her vivid, alive,
By giving life
To her red, crimson hair.

Her umbrella leans
Faintly, behind her back
Trying to keep her soul
In that place,
Where her legs stand.
Trying to cover her
From tiny drops of rain
And from the wind,
That tries to stain
That, which hides behind her skin.

Her reflection breaks-
And it breaks again
As she stares on ponds of rain
Hypnotized, by the dance
That the droplets play.
Her mind runs… 
Rain, takes it away
Transforming her shape
As if… rain came down,
Only for her to save!


14 thoughts on “Wet Silk

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