minn

Who Could Have Ever Cared More?

Seconds of my life.

There is rain falling,

A sign.

Should we all go inside?

Like small children, told not to play in the rain?

I watch, as still as I can be

There are people, hot and tired, pressed together

Crowded and noisy, perfect in so many ways.

I tip my head back. My eyes find the sky.

Each droplet catches the departing afternoon light

You are above me now. Where you belong.

The rain drops past the rigging lights,

Clinging to the stage sides, ropes and equipment.

Man-made heat issuing from the lights

Natures own warmth from this hazed up sun

And the water will fall without discrimination.

Your black hair starting to stick to your face

Moisture and mist.

The light catching the metal in your face

Glinting silver looks like raindrops to my eyes.

Your eyes scanning outward

We meet for just a moment and you smile

Your skin is sickly, almost like a corpse.

We are where the dead-ideal plays the guitar

And rules over all.

I want to stop looking at you, to stop caring.

You appear stinted, perhaps

My vision is blurred on account I have lost my glasses.

Your white skin is flushed with colors.

Bursts of ink and energy flourish for you.

You are a breeding ground for sin

Hands, as if pure confiedence -

And if you make mistakes.

Almost know no one can tell.

i write all the poetry.