Standing, huddled, in the rain. It’s three AM.

Her body couples to mine and mine to hers,
Like tireless magnets,
Connected by some infinite, impalpable force.

Our sky is a misty, glowing amber streetlight haze,
And our lust,
Just a metaphor of something better.

A steady rain opens and I watch her,
Watch, for any sign of abandoning this moment.
She tilts her face up, simple, subtle,
To the heavens, with closed eyes.

Acceptance feeds the heat of her sensuality.

What thoughts race through that mind?
Where does she go, when her dreams consume her?

Droplets cling to her skin,
Like there is nowhere else they’d rather be.
And I see us,
I see us making love, the way the rain makes love to the flower,
Only pausing to watch her come alive.

And while our golden sky continues her spate,
Others scurry around, frantic for cover.
But, this moment,
This moment holds us in the open, exposed, wet with passion.

And, like the droplets, I cling,
Cling like there is nowhere else I’d rather be,
Than in this rain,
Bodies pressed like magnets, at three AM.