Monsoons

Those lips so tired
Wouldn’t come together,
Lashes so heavy
Too weary to open;
Ivory fingers struggling to unknot
Tangles of wet silken tresses;
A faint hairline of impatience
Tracing the determined brow;
And sneaking down her cheekbone
That trickle of roguish raindrop.

Monsoons
Truly, are my dearest.