Literaryspill

The Memory of Rain

the rain is warm now. 
I can feel it 
wet, sharp
like acid trickling down
frail, unprotected skin
sliding into my eyes; 
every tear cries for you,
every tear burns.
©Nathalie M. Viorato

  1. literaryspill reblogged this from writing2u
  2. writing2u posted this