The sound of water in the distance,
quiet like the quivering sigh of
sweat-spotted lovers
at the end of the night.
It moves slowly, with the cascading
rhythm of two bodies, naive and
struck for the first time,
at the end of the night.
Slow as it begins, the clouds
ambling toward their destination
around the world, chasing the sun
through the end of the night.
It picks up, jet stream intensity,
taken by storms inside, mounting
thunder colliding, burning light
through the dark of the night -
And as it draws closer, the rain is
loud - screams - louder
than either of our hearts, louder
than the music of the night.
And just like that, all at once,
the storm is gone, moving on,
leaving us cold and clammy,
two estranged lovers
at the end of the night.