A lot of what we have been amounts to a downpour.
The unthought need of an umbrella. Cancelled games.
Wet socks. The fantasy of a fire in the place. Hot coffee.
A cat waking to stretch and catch us kissing. Fantasy.
If we are to speak in extremes - who dreams of deserts?
Unrelenting sun, and the last oasis just another mirage.
Camels panting. Rain means tomatoes in the sandwich.
I would not trade anything for the troubles we have had
-- with love.
-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2014 --