Your name is spelled out in the rain.it’s so beautiful watching it fell down my window pane.

I could watch it trickle down for hours. The sound of it hitting the ground is something we can call ours.

I put my hands again the window breathing in the scenery. Wondering to myself; Does the dark skies ever remind you of me ? 

With my warm sweater hugging me,   and your face lingers through my mind. I can’t help but love you like the rain .

I love how your words fall down to the ground, and never reaching me. I love the way your touch feel like a cold autumn breeze. I love how I can just stare at you for while.

I’m a pluviophile 


15 thoughts on “A PLUVIOPHILE 

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