If It Wasn’t Love, It Wouldn’t Hurt So Much

The morning rain falls, drip, drip, drip 
And the season begins pouring from our souls
I run out in the middle of this downpour
I will never get wet because I’m under your spell
I will never decay because your energy fills me to overflowing
You’re the foundation in the pyramid scheme to make me enriched
I’ve got a premonition we’ll both be happiness millionaires when we follow this exquisite connection of strategic elan
Cars parked in the same lot past dark
Elbows propped on the same table past the tipping point
The servers become minstrels singing of our pragmatic courtship
We cannot hear them over our own shockwaves detonating
My eyes opening, I stare at the bookmark in our conversation wistfully, patiently
Cognizant of the battle raging in your eyes, of which I can only be a spectator
Cheering you on endlessly, willingly


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