Save for Rain
Emanate teeming heart to elevate locus
of my paper English soul. To be quiet, fair
and noble.
It wasn’t the monastery I was after, nor
ruins of walls. Although, in disintegration,
interested I walked;
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in the unskilled inferiority of time fading
into itself like clouds unerring my
thoughts. Shower new and brushed my
eyelashes
back. How could a girl whose sharp tongue
soften
for a Love Letter. Write? For it always
shows a flaw. After all,
to be so proud. Here Madrid’s rain regrown
on occasion in beauty of green slime
on polished leaves. No, light,
distinct surprise. Yet, entirely reminded, in
gradual acceptance I dropped to my knees
and gasped. Rain. Nearer
bay, splashes of preventable faults? What
ever divorces the infallible, always eating
away, too self aware.
