06.06.05

left to right

They say that rain is a sign of fertility.
The clouds were looming and, of course, beginning to peeter little drops of rain down amongst us and I could see, across this expanse of rain, my friends waving at me to come over. Each one of them dressed in these log blue robes, each one having spent so many hours to look that good. Each one knowing full well as I did that I wasn�t going to walk over there unless they could call God to stop the rain.
It is still thundering and I am standing outside feeling strangely all American. The hipsters, simply following in the same spirit with their dark jeans and predilection for strange jackets and buttons. I was just another in the line except that behind me was booming bachata and in front of me, my house covered a mango grove and our flag waved high. I�m thinking, what will I feel when I move somewhere without this rolling thunder. Where will my music be? I won�t stand there in my jeans and feel so anymore but just, alone again.
He gave me the best hug, my Romanian. I kept telling him not to leave me, that was all I could form with my lips pressed against his shoulder. Above me, I could feel is curling hair come down as he leaned his head against mine and rocked with me back and forth.
I don�t think I will see him again.
Just like that, boom, all ties are severed.
I�m a free woman.

shi-ou-sama at 5:13 p.m.

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