Rain, is but fragments of our stories,
Washing unto us
To remind us that all is forgiven
Every fleeting moment is like the dust that breaks off of our skins
irreconcilable particles that drift from light into darkness,
hidden from our consciousness and sight.
But sometimes, in the light
When time is paused, you can see them float,
Like repercussions of our words, spoken in haste
Like breath on our mirrors, that has just been expelled.
When it rains, you feel our stories again
Between the beatings of your heart,
Our bits and pieces, lost fragments of our past.
Like wet sand caught in our fingernails
The wind that blows on your sinking heart,
A semblance of a balm, over the scarring of our souls,
Is but the forgiveness of our past
The cleansing of our slates, Our first steps into our futures.
Our fleeting, temporal hearts, forgiven, with the lifting of our weights.
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