CAT 1

the alarm bells began to ring,
but there you stood all the same;
an epiphany in a cacophony
of maybes –
I ran to you in the rain

hoping to symphonise your messy parts,
harmonise your interior larks.
resistance is fertile land
for the growth of passion;
watering the plants
I sowed with you.
not we,
with you.

the thunder struck
when I was out,
the clouds began to spread
out of my way,
out of your sight –

my vision is blurred;
speech, slurred.

the alarm bells have already rung,
the darkness blown away.
but here I stand, all the same,
waiting for someone
to wring me dry,
or your tears
to wash me again,

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