Il Pleut
by Robert Beveridge

It has rained three times
this week. Three more times
than we've made love in it.

I want to kiss you in this rain,
you, wearing one of my white
oxfords and nothing else,
drops tangled in your hair
and bold enough to caress
your legs.

I want to feel your wet
fingers in my hair,
on my face,
taste raspberry and almond
on your throat
from our shower this morning.

I want to see the way
soaked cloth hugs you,
wraps against the curves
of breast and belly,
touches you as soft
and intimate as my lips.

Come to me,
lie in my arms

and wait
for the first few drops
of the next downpour

sure to come.

Robert Beveridge makes noise (xterminal.bandcamp.com) and writes poetry just outside 
Cleveland, OH. Recent/upcoming appearances in Chiron Review, Riverrun, and Third Wednesday, among others.