We did not run from the rain—
we walked through it instead, slowly,
as if the world had given us permission
to be unhurried and wholly.

The rain does something to the ordinary—
it turns it luminous and silver-edged,
it makes the other person luminous too,
standing in it, half-drenched.

I loved you most in rain that afternoon,
wet and unguarded in the open street—
the rain stripped everything unnecessary
and left us simple, and complete.
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