If you're the sun, then I'm the rain.
I hit the ground without color--
your amber lifts till I'm in air again.
I dampen skin with deep dolor--
you dry me up so people grip
the earth with warm toes and never slip.
I come in waves, chaos out of spite,
dreading your broom of burn, I might
end this now, I'm only meant
for wet brood and cold sulk at night.
Complete your arc, your coy descent
and dry my tears from this cement.