I stood out in the rain.
The water running down my skin trying to wash you off me.
As my clothes begin to stick to me and my hair becomes a mop,
I stare at your window.
A dream meanders into my mind of me showing up at your doorstep
dripping with love, asking you to dry me.
A lightening bolt flashes me back into reality.
This is the closest I can ever be,
30 feet from your door
20 steps from your doorbell
15 breaths from your porch swing
A heartbeat from you.
I creep slowly across your yard and pick a drowning rose from your
garden.
You won't miss it, like you don't miss me.
I take a breath in and smell you in the air.
Putting the precious white keepsake in my breast pocket I make my way
down the road,
My eyes contributing to the downpour.