Attraction of Marble

They never tell you what it’s going to be like the first time you get caught in a rainstorm. The cold drops bouncing off the grey paved ground, turning ordinary cement into shining marble. And the scent of rain everywhere. Petrichor. The first person who can smell like that will be the one, I think. But it’s not a smell you can mimic, and so I remain married to the rain, to the cool marble streets, and run off like melted glass.

And I shiver.

And I hold myself.

Because i’m soaked with the pure drops that I so adore. I want to let them penetrate my skin, absorb into me.

I shake and it is almost erotic, I am so cold. I let the raindrops secure me.

Falling rain.

Marble streets.

And they never tell you how you will long for the rain when it is gone. How you will find recordings of it to soothe you and imagine glass on your body. The first person who can touch me with cold glass hands will be the one, I think. But it’s not a feeling you can mimic, and so I remain married to the rain, to the cool marble streets, and run off like melted glass.

Author's Note

Free verse poetry

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

I liked the Summer rain. Fall and Winter can chill our bones.
"I shake and it is almost erotic, I am so cold. I let the raindrops secure me.
Falling rain.
Marble streets."
I liked the above lines. Gave story and strength for the rain. Thank you for sharing the excellent poetry.
Coyote