She says, “it’s raining outside. Reminds me of my thirst for you,”
and I close my eyes and wonder, “dear god, when will it end?”
the warning we all want most to give is the one we could never guiltlessly say:
“Don’t fall in love the first time. It is always the worst.”
Withholding tongues because we know there’s no possible resistance,
we can only sigh in empathy as we touch and remember the scars
on our own hearts.
She cries for seven months.
In seven months time, the lovers come and go
and she watches them from her window,
too lost in restraint for the one she no longer knows.