Poetry From Sessions In The Balcony: About the Rain

And so the rain began to fall.
The wind moved with a sound,
as if it had a tail
that whipped passed the window.
The raindrops poured down
and crashed against the rooftop,
which sounded like a stampede
of a trillion little footsteps
hurrying down the slope of the house
to eventually meet the ground.

It is morning.
The gray clouds are like a blanket
that drapes across the sky.
I always saw this kind of day
as Heaven’s method
to soften the madness
and ease the tension
of an everyday world.

I see this kind of day
as a moment to wash the earth
and temporarily suspend
all that already seems
way too important.

I love the rain.

I love the idea of walking in the rain
with no place to go
and feeling the raindrops
as they splash against my face.

The rest of the world could retreat and hide,
but I could feel the rain falling down,
and that would be just fine.

I love the rain because it reminds me of you.
I would have never seen the world like this,
had it not been for you.

Had it not been for the ideas of days like this:
sheets thrown from the bed,
pillows on the floor,
and the aftermath of our love
resolves with a smile as well as a craving
for something like Chinese food . . .

Had it not been for these things,
I would have never known
how wonderful it is
to stay indoors
on a day like today
and look through the window
to watch the rain.

When I am not around you,
I think about what you might look like
on mornings like this.
You, home alone
and I am probably away at work.

I imagine you in one of my gray t-shirts
and nothing else.
The covers only covering you slightly
and the dim light of a rainy morning
push through the drapes
and give the room a
dull shade of silvery brightness.

I say days like these are made for us.
They are made to keep us indoors
and kept between the sheets.

I think about the way you lay in the morning.

You —
lying on your stomach
with your right knee tucked upwards
and your leg is partially exposed,
but the blankets cover the rest of your body.

I wonder what would happen if I surprised you.
I wonder how you would react
if I traced your leg
with kisses that began at the tip of your toe
and worked all the way up the inside of your leg.

This is why I love the rain

I love the thoughts that cross my mind
as I try to imagine you
with your face lying gently in the pillow.
I envision you with a semi-smile as you sleep
and imagine that your dreams are of me
and that I am the cause of your dreams
and of course, the reason for that semi-smile.

I wonder about the last time you quivered.
I wonder about the last time
you felt so overwhelmed by a physical sensation
that you forgot about every yesterday’s tragedy.

I wonder about you in my arms
and if ever there was a place
that you could feel safe and warm,
would my arm be that only place?

I think about climbing next to you
as you lay in bed.
And when I speak to you, I will speak softly
with hopes that the depth of my voice
will soothe you.
I hope to speak in a way that when you hear me,
a wave will rush through your body
like a series of vibrations
that create the kind of need
which chills your skin
and sends the beautiful ache
of sexual desire.

If I do this, then I want to do this perfectly.
I want to rise upon you
and have you feel more than wanted,
but flooded
with your own erotic needs
.


If I do this,
I want you to forget about
everything that exists outside the bedroom.
I want you to forget about limitations.
I want you to listen to the sound of the rain
that it falls heavy on the roof.
Listen to the wind as it blows passed the window
and allow these sounds
to act as the perfect background
to our bodies writhing together.

I want you to feel me.
But not just my body,
I want you to feel all of me.

I want you to wrap your arms around my neck
and your legs around my back.

Take me into you

I want you to feel my strength as well as my love.
And when you feel yourself about to break,
I want you to feel me about to break
at the same time

If I do this, then I want to do this perfectly.
And at that moment of grand satisfaction,
I want to meet you there,
so that when you open yourself to me,
I will arrive . . .
Something deep inside of me will detonate
and I will explode
deep inside of you

Man, I love the rain

But seriously . . .

Can you blame me?

imagesbenfield

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