Wet/Dry

Breathe. It’s beautiful as it falls.
As we stand here, the rain covers us like a blanket full of life.
Every tingle from every drop a reminder of how alive we are.
It’s so soft as it falls.
Let it pour. We’re soaked.
“My favorite’s when it hits the water,” she says.
Let’s get back in the car.
“But it’s so pretty, don’t leave. It’s like it washes us away. The lies. The trouble. We get washed clean. We get exposed. When you’re this wet you can see right inside of me. I can’t run or hide. Niether can you. I see your fears. Your wants. I see your needs. More than in just your eyes. Look.”
As the sun comes out, it feels like dawn all over again.
The water stops. It’s pretty.
It smells clean. New.
You can see for miles. The fog moves. The clouds race.
It’s beautiful isn’t it?
“It is,” she says.